


Year 1

by Hoodie2



Series: How Many Heartbeats? [2]
Category: In a Heartbeat (Short Film)
Genre: But we're all on a ride to hell and I will drive, Character Development, Character Study, Gen, I can't for sure predict where this goes, please bear with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21020486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodie2/pseuds/Hoodie2
Summary: Introducing new people that will stick around for a while. Like them, hate them, they're here to cause trouble just the same as the main cast. Thanks for reading dolls~





	1. The One Who Knew The New One

Jonathan invited Sherwin to join him and his friends at lunch. The ginger was reluctant, but given a little persuasion, he agreed.  
The two returned to the school building in contented silence, Sherwin keeping his heart hidden in his uniform sleeve, combing the twigs and leaves out of his hair with his fingers. Jonathan kept a look out for teachers as they pushed through the groomed shrubs to get back into the building. They slipped through the main doors quietly and joined the second period rush, parting to their respective classes.

English Lit, one of Jonathan’s favorite classes. Being a mid-key bookworm - he tries to keep well-rounded - he was happy to be allowed to read whatever he liked and share it with others as well as his views on the subject matter. A part of his overall charm.  
Arriving to the classroom, the teen saw he was the first to enter, he found Ms. Fairweather cleaning the whiteboard of the previous class’ lesson.

“Good morning, Jonathan.” The teacher greeted partially turning away from her task, unsurprised by his entrance. “First as always.” A gentle smile spread across her pink painted lips.

The teen gave her a polite smile and a shrug as he moved to his usual seat. “What can I say?” He asked cheekily. “I really enjoy your class, miss.” 

An airy laugh left the teacher, charmed by one of the school's top students. The boy just had that type of speak-easy approach about him that got him on the good side of the teaching staff and admiration of his peers.  
Ms. Fairweather returned to her task shaking her head with amusement. “You may be one of the few.”

He gave a small chuckle, making his way to his desk. Middle row, second desk closest to the window overlooking the well tended courtyard. Jonathan patted his chest to grab the shoulder strap of his bag that… wasn’t there. Panic flashed in his blue eyes for a moment.

I must have dropped it during the fiasco with Sherwin this morning.

Jonathan turned to make a quick and quiet exit back into the hall, passing some fellow classmates that were starting to trickle in. Stopping short just as he turned outside the door frame, narrowly avoiding a collision with Sean. He looked up at the taller teen almost embarrassed as his co-captain stared back with a knowing smirk. The poor teen has been thrown entirely off his game today.

“Forget something, Jon?” The blonde teased, shrugging off the tan strap of a familiar shoulder bag. “Pretty uncommon of you.” He smiled good-naturedly.

Jonathan replied with a nervous chuckle. “Yea, thanks, Sean.” He took the bag from his friend and turned, walking beside the blonde as they strolled to their desks.  
Setting their bags on the ground beside their desks and prepped the necessary materials atop the desks’ surface. Sean glanced around the classroom for anyone paying close attention to his teammate and himself before leaning toward Jonathan.

“So,” the blonde began quietly, just above a whisper, looking around at their classmates again. “What happened with Sherwin?”

Jonathan eyed Sean curiously, an eyebrow raised. “We talked.” He answered vaguely. His friends didn’t usually have much interest in the interactions he had with other students. It was a bit strange.

Sean’s brows knitted together with confusion at first before he shook his head. “No, I mean, are you and him dating or what?” He kept leaning closer into the aisle between their desks as he spoke. “You did go after him, right? What happened?”

The shorter boy eyed over his friend. What was he expecting? Sherwin was an acquaintance at best so far, not that it was anyone’s business. It would be bad if rumors started going around though. Such a hassle.  
He sighed, already done with the subject. “I did go after him, yes, we talked, but we are not dating.” He answered, turning his attention to the whiteboard where Ms. Fairweather was writing today’s lesson, Jonathan began writing down the objectives in his notebook. 

“That’s it?” Sean demanded a little less quietly.

Jonathan nodded, giving a careless shrug, not looking up from his notebook. “That's it.” Only when he finished the last note did he look up. “I did invite him to join us for lunch though.” He eyed Sean, gauging his reaction.

The blonde was silent, astonishment written across his face. A number of thoughts crossed over his face. When he finally opened his mouth to say something, Ms. Fairweather called the class to attention and began roll call her eyes darting up from her clipboard when each student voiced their presence. A glimmer in Sean’s eye told the Latino that the conversation wasn’t yet over.

It was obvious that Sean expected Jonathan to run and dodge more questions, judging by the hand placed on his shoulder at the end of class. It was nice to know his friend had so much faith in him. No way calling their friendship into question.  
But he didn’t object or try to shrug off Sean’s hand as the two walked out, barely hearing the assignment Ms. Fairweather called out to the students.  
“Liane is going to shred you, man.” Sean stated with a schooled cool expression. “Why?”

“Because I won’t date someone I just met.” Jonathan answered after a heavy sigh. “He agreed with being friends.”  
The boys flowed through the stream of students coming and going in different directions easily, a few of their fellow classmates quickly stepping out of their way.

“Friends.” Sean echoed quietly, thoughtfully. “You mean friends as in ‘I’ll say hi to you in the hall but otherwise will not affiliate with you,’ right?” He asked.  
“No, I mean friends.” The shorter teen answered before being grabbed by the taller teen to a stop and forcing him to turn, meeting Sean’s desperate expression in close proximity. “Friends?!” The blonde hissed.

The brunette’s brows furrowed together officially annoyed with the blonde’s behavior. “Yes, friends.” He replied, lightly but firmly pushing his friend back. “Is there a problem?”

The taller teen’s eyes flicked back and forth between Jonathan’s, searching for something maybe a call that his response was a joke.  
He knew Jonathan well enough, enough to know that the Latino wouldn’t make a joke as tasteless and cliche. Jonathan was too nice of a guy to pull something like that, he didn’t care about the social structures their peers were beginning to develop among themselves and their peers.  
“Nothing, nothing.” Sean raised his hands, taking a breath. “It’s just… Normally, one does not become ‘just friends’ with someone who has outed feelings for them, voluntarily or otherwise.” He pressed his palms together, curling his fingers over the opposing knuckles of each hand except for his index fingers, tilting his hands downward pointing at his captain.

Jonathan sighed his annoyance, eyeing past Sean’s fingers to Sean, himself. The blonde’s face had nearly every question in his eyes that Liane would have spouting out of her mouth come lunch hour. “I don’t know what you are expecting from me, Sean.” The shorter teen spoke, turning back to rejoin the flow of students through the hall. “I vaguely understand the two common options is to either a) date the confessor or b) falsify a friendship and apparently never speak to them again? Neither options I find very favorable.”

Sean follows at his side, classmates parting for the two as they made their way through. “Precisely for the reason that you said you wouldn’t date him.” The blonde replied keeping his voice low. “And, I guess, difference in social status - according to Liane.”  
If anything was a big no in their small friend group, it was to never start rumors or be the cause of rumors, nothing more ruinous for top students than foul whisperings among their peers.  
“Just explain to me, why invite Sherwin to lunch?” 

The name seemed to have caught mild interests from their classmates around them, maybe they were there to witness this morning’s incident or are secondhand listeners of it.  
Jonathan paused outside a closed classroom door before turning to the blonde. “Sean, you and I are friends? Right?”

“Right.” Sean replied, catching on what he was saying.

“And us two, we’re friends with Ozzy and Liane. Right?”

“Right…” A little more disgruntled tone, he caught on to where the conversation was going.

“And we all sit together at lunch.” The brunette rolled his hands over each other, continuing the roll of thought. “So, I invited Sherwin as a friend to join us.” Jonathan flashed a fake grin at his teammate before once again joining the hurrying mass of youths, letting a relaxed smile mask over his annoyance.

~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~

“Please tell me, Sean was lying.” Liane demanded as she slipped into line between Jonathan and some other unfortunate student that nearly bumped into another. She quietly but haughtily accepted a serving of mashed potatoes in her wait.

The poor boy’s shoulders sagged as he moved along in the line. He knew it was pointless, but he had hoped not to get anymore harassment about Sherwin. Ozzy had left him alone about the whole thing in third period, he seemed like he couldn’t care less about it. It certainly was appreciated.  
But Sean and Liane were felt quite the contrary if not for more or less good reasons.

Sean just didn’t want gossip going around; despite the usual stoic front he puts up, he loses his temper easily about false rumors.

Liane was more about image and status. A learned behavior from her social elitist father, anything or anyone that didn’t meet whatever set of standards she set in her mental hierarchy were cast out of her social circles.

“About what Liane?” Jonathan asked in a bored voice. He examined an apple from the selection on the salad bar for any bruises before setting it on his tray then reached for a small container of grapes.

The female snatched away the grapes he was reaching for in a fury. “You inviting Le Battement to our lunch table.” She answered, glaring at her friend as he took a moment to take a different set of grapes and place them on his tray instead.

Jonathan turned to her with confusion in his usually cool, blue eyes, brows knitting together for the seemingly umpteenth time within the subject conversation. “What?”

The two brunettes walked by a number of tables and a number of offers to join their fellow students, smiling friendly with each rejected offer. “Le Battement. Sherwin’s last name.” Liane explained in a hushed tone after the fourth offer. “He’s, like, part French or something.”  
Excellent, she went ahead and researched the redhead.

“You researched him?” The Latino questioned in utter bewilderment, pausing in his step for only a moment. “Seriously”  
The young woman rolled her eyes taking her usual seat at the round table closest to the open doors leading to the courtyard, Jonathan taking the empty stool beside her. “It wasn’t really research.” She said as she unwrapped her silverware from the napkin. “There’s nothing interesting about him. Meek, polite, B average.” Liane picks cautiously at the meatloaf with her fork. “Aside from his clumsiness -and maybe his personal interests-, no one has any complaints about him.”

Before anymore could be said Sean and Ozzy joined the pair.  
“And what is today’s intellectual debate?” Sean asked feigning innocence as he claimed his seat on the other side of Liane leaving one empty stool between him and her. Ozzy sat closer to their baseball captain. It was almost symbolic of who’s side each had chosen for the conversation.

“I heard Sherwin is joining us today.” Spoke Ozzy sounding excited. “That’s great.” He unwrapped his silverware and digging into his lunch without further statement. The other three at the table shared curious and confused looks as the boy ate with little care.

Sean was the first to speak up, resting his elbow atop the table’s surface then leaned forward on it. “Do you know Sherwin, Ozzy?” The blonde asked eyeing their team catcher spectatively. Ozzy didn’t seem to hang out with anyone outside their group from any memory the blonde could come up with.

The hungry teen shrugged giving a half nod as he chewed his food. “I mean, kinda.” He answered after he swallowed. “He did help me study for my oral exam in basic French last term.” Ozzy paused for a moment. “Which reminds me, I still owe Sherwin an ice pop.”

“So he actually speaks French?” Liane asked sounding curious rather than suspicious for once.

Ozzy gave another half nod as he twisted open the cap of his juice. “Yea, one time after practice I found Sherwin hanging around-” Sean and Liane gave unsurprised glances to Jonathan, who ignore the two. “-he was on his phone talking to one of his parents, I think, in French so after he hung up I asked him to tutor me.” He took a swig of his drink. 

Sean eased off his elbow with a hum; Jonathan nodded, and Liane pursed her lips an unreadable expression.  
Ozzy turned in his seat looking around the noisy students, stuffing another spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth without much attention. Suddenly he perked up, spoon still held in his mouth, frantically waving a hand.  
One after the other; Liane, Jonathan, and Sean all turned to look at who he was waving at.

Sherwin stood uncomfortably about a yard from their table, amber brown eyes darting back and forth between the open seats and the open doors in a debate with himself.  
At least until he saw Ozzy waving enthusiastically at him.  
The ginger slowly approached the table, taking the stood between Sean and Ozzy. “Hello.” He greeted softly.

“Hey Sherwin.” Jonathan greeted with a smile.  
“Hello.” Liane said curtly.  
Sean nodded, keeping his expression blank.  
“Bonjour Sherwin.” Ozzy grinned charmingly, over pronouncing the redhead’s name to sound like Sherween.

Despite his anxieties, Sherwin relaxed giving a small smile. “Bonjour, Ozzy.” He replied, an accent lacing with his words. “Avez-vous suivi vos pratiques?”

The catcher was silent, staring at Sherwin blankly. He slowly turned to his food, stuffing another spoonful into his mouth. The question left unanswered.

Sean hummed sounding impressed. It wasn’t often Ozzy was quickly silenced. “No steam today man?” He teased letting an easy smirk change the stoic expression, his eyes turned to Sherwin. “What did you say?”

The question was innocent and genuinely curious, it almost startled the ginger. Ozzy grumbled under his breath to the blonde but went ignored.  
“I, uh, only asked if he kept up with his practices.” Sherwin explained.

“Aren’t you in a spanish speaking household though Ozzy?” Sean asked, officially ignoring his lunch by pushing it toward the center of the table and resting his elbows atop the plastic surface. Amused curiosity written in his expression.

Jonathan gave a grunt, waving a hand for attention, swallowing a bite of his own lunch. “How’s that an issue against learning another language? I’m in a spanish household too, Sean.” 

As the boys bickered, letting the tensions ease away from the originally uncomfortable situation, Liane remained silent, assessing the redhead newcomer. His hair wasn’t a complete mess of curls, there was some order to it, a small collection of freckles dusted over his pale flesh, big bambi amber-colored eyes, petite nose, and thin lips.  
Admittedly overall, Sherwin was attractive in a pretty boy way. He could fit in with their close-knit group, well, with a touch of work on his social graces.  
Eyeing the teen a bit closer, she noticed a small bruise at the corner of Sherwin’s mouth.

“Hey, Sherwin,” she spoke up, stopping Ozzy in the midst of spouting a string of spanish profanities at Sean. The addressed teen blinked at her curiously. “Did you split your lip?” She used her finger and tapped at the corner of her own mouth that matched where the bruise was.

Sherwin brought his hand up and touching the bruise, cringing with regret. “Ow, oh, I must’ve bitten myself after bumping into a particularly grumpy upperclassman.” He chuckled weakly.


	2. The One That Knows The Standings

The final bell had rung, succeeded by a chaotic exodus of students hurrying to be the first for after school activities, meeting up with friends, or getting the best seat on the bus. The usually silent halls filled with a cacophony of chatter increased by echo.  
One student ignored the noise and any interaction towards her. A young woman on a mission, determination in her cocoa brown eyes.

Chin high, expression set, her ponytail swayed with her steps through the mass of peers that avoided straying in her way. Liane watched the walls of lockers, searching for one specific name. She found the locker and her target easily enough among the blondes and browns to brunettes and black hair that are forcibly tamed by hair gel, hair ties, and straighteners.  
Red curls bobbed and twisted as the pretty boy looked over both of his shoulders, keeping himself as close to his locker as possible taking up as little space as he can.

Liane walked up to him, waving off social offers towards her. “Hey Sherwin.” She tapped the ginger’s shoulder, startling him. The poor boy stumbled into his locker sending his school books tumbling out from the storage unit to the floor.  
“Oh, sorry.” The brunette jumped herself before kneeling down to pick up the books. Sherwin joined her quickly grabbing his belongings before they or his hands were stepped on. “I was wondering if you were going to the guys’ practice today?”

Sherwin blinked at her in surprise, rising to his feet. She didn’t speak to him much throughout lunch other than to point out his split lip, he thought she still didn’t like him. “Practice?” He echoed nervously, looking through the textbooks in his arms and putting a few back in his locker. “I don’t know.” Sherwin answered. “It just doesn’t seem like a good idea right now.”

Liane nodded in understanding, handing him his books. In honesty, if Jonathan hadn't invited the ginger for lunch he would still be just another tiny blip on her radar and another faceless schoolmate she wouldn’t bother talking to.

Stupid Jonathan and his nice guy nature.  
“Yea, But we all go for a bite afterwards,” She explained with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “And Ozzy won’t shut up about paying you back for the tutoring.” The brunette shrugged carelessly. “He goes on and on about his dad’s preachings on being a man of honor.”

That got a small chuckle out of the ginger, stopping her train of thought. A smile, small and gentle, made itself at home on his lips. It added the the pretty boy label in her mind.

“A man always keeps his word.” Sherwin spoke as if reciting a known rule, pulling Liane back to the present. “I get it.”

On reflex, Liane pulled out her phone to collect herself. “Something like that I guess.” She replied with a mask of indifference. Sparing the boy a glance. “So, are you coming?”

The question hung between them as he tucked two of his books into his backpack, stalling for time.  
He’s watched the baseball team practice before, usually from behind the equipment shed where the school “delinquents” like to smoke, no one to bother him and nothing to be alert for except the final whistle when practice ends.  
Being able to watch the practice up close without potentially seeming creepy would be ideal. But the fact that the entire team would know he was there could only mean bad things.

Apparently Sherwin was taking too long to decide.

“You know what?” Liane eyed him with slight annoyance. “Forget that I asked; you are going. No ifs, ands, or buts about it, am I clear?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, daring him to refuse.

The thought of refusal barely shot through his mind. He nodded stiffly and obediently, daring not to test her patience.

“Good.” She nodded, relaxing her stance. “I need to stop by Ozzy’s locker first.” The newly dubbed teen-in-charge explained before walking off into the thinning stream of students. Sherwin shut his locker and quickly followed after her.

“What - sorry - what do you need from Ozzy’s - sorry - locker?” Sherwin asked in between apologies to other students that either shove him or ignore him.

Liane walked on, unbothered, all remaining bodies moving around her but not crowding her. Waving a hand with a half shrug. “He wants one of his speakers.” She answered. “Motivational music or whatever.” She paid no mind as Sherwin tried to stick close, hoping to not get bumped into.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“And then she had the nerve to act innocent!” Ozzy cried as he buttoned his uniform. “Maldito mocoso.” He grumbled watching his fingers work, ignoring Jonathan’s disapproving glare. “I love her to death, but that was the guitar dad bought for my seventh birthday.”

“Oz, dude,” Sean spoke up, fitting his cap over his blonde locks. “Correct me if I’m wrong but I think that’s the point of younger siblings. They mess with your things, if not break them.”

Jonathan tightened the laces of his shoes. “It’s only marker, right?” He asked, automatically following the motions of shoe-tying. “A little nail polish remover and a cotton ball would clean it up.”

Ozzy groaned dramatically, gripping his mit in his hands. “I know that! She just shouldn’t be touching my valuables.” The teen slumped, dumping himself on to one of the empty locker room benches. “She’s already spoiled as it is.”

The blonde teen rolled his eyes at the catcher. “Oh, the woes of not being an only child.” He sighed with false despair.

“Count yourself lucky, Sean.” Ozzy lightly bumped the blonde’s hip with his fist. He grabbed his hat from it’s spot clasped to his belt loop, fixing it over his dark hair backwards. “Don’t you have an older sib, Jon?” He squinted at his captain as if trying to remember if the topic ever came up in a conversation.

Jonathan cringed making a gross noise. “Micheal, my brother.” He answered. “Thank god I don’t have to deal with him again until the winter holidays.” He turned around and grabbed his glove out of his locker before shutting it.  
“I’m going to see if Coach Brennen left any notes in his office.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the coach’s office.

“Hope his wife is doing okay.” Ozzy murmured, standing up.

“I’ll go with,” Sean stated. “We still need to discuss the lineup for Friday’s game.”  
Jonathan nodded and headed off away from the lockers.

Ozzy watched them go, a lonely pout on his lips. “I guess I’ll go start warm ups.” He grumbled after them, turning in the opposite direction, heading toward the field.  
They let him be, as usual. He always did his own thing when the others weren’t around. It’s why none of them knew about his tutoring with Sherwin. Not even Sean knew, which is some kind of accomplishment.  
He had been close to the blonde since second year of primary school, something involving bullies - neither could remember. Sean was a pretty quiet guy which worked well since Ozzy would talk and almost never stop. Ozzy talked Sean into joining the baseball team in the third year where they met Jonathan, then, when Sean became vice captain Jonathan started hanging out with them with Liane in tow.  
Jonathan was and remains to be a pretty chill guy, he’s pretty optimistic, not easy to anger although he is obvious when his boundaries are being pushed. Jon was a friendly and trusting guy, not someone you want to anger much less disappoint. A ride or die kind of guy.  
Liane was someone that grew on you. She was bossy, orderly, and hated anything that didn’t suit her ideals. Ozzy bickered with her a lot about how narrow-minded she tended to be, it took almost a year to convince her that other music types could be just as good as Pop. Ozzy could say it was only respected tolerance between them, but he could just barely stand the fact that Sean quickly became her little soldier boy. She snaps her fingers and Sean provides whatever she wants.

He’s not sure what the other three think their whole relationship is but, personally, Ozzy calls it an alliance. The top four in grade seven, setting themselves apart from their classmates. Sean is the stoic guy that “freezes” people with a glare, he scares off the dudes that try to hang out with them.  
Ozzy, himself, is the chill guy that gets along with the “delinquents” and gets himself into detention frequent enough to do so, he knows how to get himself in and out of certain situations and can pick a lock.  
Liane is the socialite -or elitist in his opinion- she keeps them secluded from the masses and chases off the posers that think they can bring down any one of the four.  
And Jonathan, the unintended head of their group, the star man, he brings in the admiration of their peers, pride to the teachers, and the respect of people around -even Ozzy can admit the guy is dazzling when he wants to be.

But no matter how close they all seemed, Ozzy thought to himself, scuffling his way across the well maintained lawn. The four were no closer than coworkers, it was mostly professional.

“Alright guys,” Ozzy called the rest of the team to attention as he rounded the metal fence. “Coach’s wife has finally gone into labor -best wishes to them- so until Jon and Sean skip on down let’s get on with the warm ups.” He looked over to the bleachers expecting only the “boss lady” but also found his tutor there. She actually talked him into coming, huh.

Daniel Walsh jogged up to him with a shit eating grin. “Hey man, please tell me I’m not the only one weirded out.” He said with a low chuckle.

Asshole Walsh thinks he’s better than most of the team. Talking up his batting skills when he’s a better shortstop.

Ozzy pulled on his mit and picked up a ball. “What would make you weird out man?” He asked, feigning curiosity as he tossed the ball into his mit to pull it out and repeat. “Such a confidant guy like you?

Daniel gave the catcher an incredulous expression as if Ozzy was the crazy one. “I mean, yea, sure I am.” He picked up one of the spare bats and began twisting his torso around using the bat as extra momentum. “But I’m talking about the guy that harassed Jon this morning.” The teen twisted to his right and gave a hardly discreet point to Sherwin, who was looking at something Liane was pointing to on her phone.

Ozzy didn’t look where his teammate pointed, keeping himself in check from rolling his eyes, he stretched his arms further apart to extend his lazy toss and catch exercise. “Yea, so?” The catcher shrugged his left shoulder. “Jon and him talked their stuff out. They’re friendly now.”

“Friendly? Really?” The other teen was in disbelief, bringing the bat behind his head and continuing his stretching. “Jon and him?”

“Do you have something against Sherwin?” Ozzy asked, cocking his head to the side.

Daniel’s eyes lowered, the corners of his mouth turning downward carefully thinking out his next response.  
But it never came as the team captains jogged up to the fenced in field. 

“Game time.” Ozzy muttered to himself tossing the ball into his mit one final time before meandering over to join the gathering of players, not caring if Daniel followed.

“Alright guys, I’m sure Ozzy let you in on the Coach’s absence so let’s just get into practice.” Jonathan called, staring down at the clipboard in his hand. “First batters are Dawson, Julihan, Clake, Baker, Jameson, Silkur, Lakes-Duun, Walsh, and Sean.”  
As they were called, the players moved sluggishly or enthusiastically to the lineup. These were the guys that needed work on their batting and most of them knew it.

“Um, are we just going to ignore the freckled fairy watching from the bleachers?” The insult came from one of the players remaining gathered, it froze every movement. A mixture of stunned, confused, and curious expressions were exchanged among the players as they tried to figure out who had said it.  
Even their small audience were looking among their faces trying to figure it out, Sherwin a bit shameful while Liane was seeming expectant.

No one was stepping forward to take responsibility, something that could be seen as cowardly, and judging by the tension in Jonathan’s jaw, he found it extremely so. “Come again?” The captain asked, eyeing each of his teammates evenly.

“Pretty sure you heard me cap.” A lean body nudged his way from behind Carter Higgs and Freddy Dillis. Lucas LaMoore had his hands in his pockets with his thumbs out, his uniform half buttoned showing off the dirt stained undershirt beneath. “ ‘M not sure how comfortable I feel being eyed up by Barbie’s gay bestie.”

Jonathan was silent, his lips pressed in a thin line, a battle of restraint behind cool blue eyes. Even Sean took a couple steps away from him. For a guy who was well liked and well respected, it was always a surprise when a bug showed up.  
After the tense minutes of silence, the captain cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about,” He assured. “Not with your personality anyway. But that part of your personality did earn you extra warmups.” He pointed the clipboard at the offending teen before looking over to the bleachers. “Liane, he’s yours to boss about.”  
As addressed, the female brunette made her way around the fence to join the players, her phone and Ozzy’s speaker in hand.

Lucas stepped further away from the group, squaring up to his captain. “That’s not something you can do.” He objected, brows knitting together almost confused.

The latino teen met him in a more relaxed posture, unthreatened, unbothered, but very much done with today. “In the Coach’s absence the team captain will take charge over the practice.” He spoke slow and coldly. “Including dealing with the more “troublesome” members of the team-” he tapped the clipboard to Lucas’ chest “-yet seeing as I need to oversee practice of our more mature teammates. But,” Jonathan paused, pulling back the clipboard and taking a single step away from Lucas. “If this still bothers you, you are free to leave. We are roughly twenty minutes into practice after all, twenty minutes wasted on you thinking that someone else’s preferences is your business.”  
Everyone within earshot could feel the tension thick, wondering who was going to throw a punch.

But in the end, the captain won. Lucas marched over to Liane, who quickly set up the connection between her phone and the speaker.  
Common order has been maintained.

“Alright, guys, back to work.” Jonathan ordered, turning his attention to the rest of his team.  
To work they went. Sean up to bat first, Ozzy playing catcher, and Liane playing High School Musical “I don’t dance” off to the side as her temporary minion swings an imaginary bat upon command.


	3. The One Stuck in Routine

It was strange. At least until a better word could be found then that will work. Strange.   
The day was supposed to be like another; class, mind numbing conversation, casual admiration, more class. Maybe a love letter or two to pleasantly shake up the mundane routine. However, in no way was there supposed to be a blushy, anxious redhead joining their ranks. 

At least not so quickly or easily in Sean’s opinion. The whole ordeal was a surprise and Sean wasn’t a fan of surprises. There was supposed to be a routine, an order to “friends.” You don’t just become friends with someone who has outed feelings for you and you certainly don’t just expect your original friends to simply accept this new friend afterwards.  
But that could be just his thing against surprises. This would be much easier to mentally handle if it wasn’t so early in the week.

Sean looked over his shoulder to glance at the new friend in question that was listening to Ozzy rambling mindlessly over something barely sensible to understand. They seemed to get along well, well, with Sherwin as Ozzy’s french tutor it would be expected.  
He could see, however much he’ll verbally say otherwise, what Liane meant by calling Sherwin pretty. It would explain how he is an easy target for the harassment thus far.

“Don’t stare.” Liane warned from staring at her phone. “It’s rude.”

“I’m sure that’s what you really think.” He replied with dripping sarcasm. But he complied nonetheless. Her obedient little servant as Ozzy would mock him for, if he was paying attention that is.

“Are you jealous that Ozzy isn’t talking your ear off?” Liane asked in a babying tone. Her own type of mockery, Sean can never seem to get away from it.  
The blonde just rolls his eyes.

“What do you think of him?” He asked in a low voice so as to not attract Jonathan’s attention from the book he was reading.

“I think he can fit.” She answered, tucking her phone away into a side pocket of her shoulder bag. “Though I don’t think we can say anything against him without objection.” The brunette looked up at him with an entertained smile. Was she actually enjoying the newbie among them too? Sean didn’t want to think about it.

“They do seem to fall to their whims easily, don’t they?” He commented dully, an expression of less than enthused. Again, Sean looked over his shoulder, this time seeing Sherwin talking and Ozzy listening just as intently as Sherwin had for him. Impressive.

The five approached an aesthetically pleasing 1930s diner, Ozzy quickly explained to Sherwin that one of his aunts owns the establishment so they are able to get discounts on their meals.  
“Not that you need it this time.” The catcher shrugged dramatically with a big grin. “Since I’m buying for you after all.” He nudged the redhead playfully with his elbow.

Sherwin shook his head, rolling his eyes skyward. “I’ve said you didn’t need to worry about paying me back.” He said, his slender hands tightening on the strap of his school bag as he shrunk back a bit from the contact. It was obvious Sherwin wasn’t sure how to act around the most popular group in their grade.

Ozzy was the one who cared the least out of the four. He thought the newbie was cool, someone new, someone interesting. “Nah, nah, amigo,” the catcher shook his head and hands rejecting the rejection. “I owe you for saving my grades and my head. If my parents found out I was failing any class, dios mio, I’m not allowed to play for tips on the weekends.” A look of fear crossed the teen’s face as he skipped up the steps.

“Comme c’est tragique.” The ginger sighed, his head cocking to the side with a teasing smile. 

Sean and Liane, who were observing the interactions with mild judgements, turned to Ozzy, waiting to see if he understood his tutor. Jonathan only looked up from his book when he bumped into Sean, the blonde promptly swiping the distraction from his hands earning a disgruntled noise.  
Jonathan tried reaching to take the book back but Sean, being the tallest of them thus far, held it out of his grasp, the shorter’s fingers just barely brushing the book’s cover. Sean pushed him back far enough to grab his shoulder and turn the latino’s body to face the educational lesson in front of them.

Ozzy squinted down the steps at the freckled boy, his mind running through what he remembered from the tutoring sessions. “Uh… tragique.” Poor guy almost had smoke pouring from his ears as he thought. “That’s not what- I mean, I thought it was “tre tragique” not “come ses tragique.” He tried pronouncing the words to the best of his ability

Sherwin shook his head, making a mental note to go over pronunciations with the other boy. French would take more time with someone who wasn’t raised with it, like any unfamiliar language. “Comme c’est tragique,” he sounded out the words slowly. “That is “how tragic.” Etre tragique is “be tragic.””

“Be tragic?” Ozzy echoed curiously, rubbing his thumb along his jaw. “Huh, sounds like something my Nan would say when Paps throws a fit.” He snickered as he turned and grabbed the door handle. “Now, without further adieu,” the door opens, bell chime ringing as if in greeting, releasing a mixture of delicious aromas and a number of sounds ranging from people talking to dishes clattering against each other. “I present Aunt Twi’s Diner.” He propped the door open with his foot as an elderly couple stepped out, the other four quickly moving away from the steps to let them through, taking comments of politeness with varying smiles.

After the couple wandered on to find their car, Liane didn’t give Sherwin a chance to hesitate on the steps. She pushed him up and inside the diner where it was more spacious that the outside made it seem.  
Sean, having finally given Jonthan back his book, followed after the two, and after his book was safely stashed away in his bag, so did Jonathan. Before letting the door shut, Ozzy jumped up and hit the small silver bell above the door frame making it ring several more times.

The group walked by the counter and a couple of occupied tables towards the end of the restaurant where the jukebox stood playing an indistinguishable song by Blur.  
“Just so you know,” Liane started, easing the grip she had on Sherwin’s arm. “Under no circumstance do you get the chili dogs.” She gave the ginger a warning look that showed some sort of experience. “Twi’s cook, Lars, makes the chili so spicy we’ve seen grown men full on cry.”  
“Plus it gave Jon and Ozzy both serious stomach pains when they tried the Chili Challenge.” Sean added lightly. “But they did manage to complete their servings.”

Jonathan groaned quietly behind the three. “Don’t bring that up,” he pleaded. “I still get heartburn thinking about it.” 

“Auntie Twi!” Ozzy called from the back of their group making them and some customers of the diner jump. The teen openly snorted in laughter at his friends. “Donde estas, tia Twi?”  
Liane scoffed in mild annoyance and scooted into the nearest clean booth, slipping off her bag and setting it down on the seat between herself and the wall. Sean took the seat across from the brunette setting his bag on the floor behind his legs. Ozzy dove for the spot beside Sean as Sherwin was about to sit in the same spot, he scooted in; squishing the blonde against the wall, before patted what remained of the seat for the redhead to sit with an innocent grin. Sherwin cast the poor blonde a pitying smile as he sat down leaving Jonathan to take the empty seat beside Liane.

“Must you shout every time you and your friends come here?” An adult woman scolded as she approached the table, a scowl on her pretty face and a notepad in hand. She wasn’t tall but wasn’t terribly short, pale olive skin with tattoos peeking from beneath her short sleeves; there was one small tattoo on the back of her wrist in cursive writing that read “baby sister.” Her purple painted lips arched in a frown as her deep brown eyes glared down at the snickering teen that grinned back. “You’re going to scare off the customers, is that what you want?” The woman put a hand on her hip.

Ozzy just laughed again. “Bah, the only thing they should be scared of is someone you don’t like causing a ruckus.”   
The woman huffed lifting up her pad and pen. “The usual guys?” She asked, looking down at the pad as she scribbled away the orders. Yeses and Pleases went around the table. Then, she eyed over Sherwin curiously. “And I’ll get you a menu, sweetie.” She patted his shoulder with the hand that had the “baby sister” tattoo before walking away.

“Thank you.” He said almost inaudibly as she left.

“I forget,” Liane squinted at the woman that lifted the gate of the counter. “How is she your aunt?” The girl turned her eyes to Ozzy, who was entertaining himself by stacking the creamer packets into a pyramid.

He spared her a glance as he carefully lowered a creamer packet atop the rest. “She’s my Ma’s half sister.” The answer was a bit vague, they waited quietly but Ozzy didn’t continue.

Sean wasn’t surprised, Ozzy never delved into details about his family. Like, he’ll talk about them, gush and complain about his sister, Isabela; rant about his one cousin, Nicholas; tells endless stories that he was told about his mom and her siblings or old memories of his grandparents youth. But there was a lot of holes when he brings any of them up. Like with his grandmother he calls her by three different variations; Nan, Grams, and Granny, whereas it’s just Paps for his grandfather. And the strange relations of his aunt and uncles to his mom are strange. Or for a fact Ozzy addresses his mom as “he.”  
One time Sean had asked the teen if his grandparents divorced after Ozzy was talking about his Uncle Comet who is his mom’s step-brother. Ozzy stared him straight in the eye for a moment, searching for something, before he shrugged. “Sorta but not really.” He had answered.  
Any family on Ozzy’s father’s side is either dead or MIA, so there is confusion if he knows anyone on that side.  
For a guy so talkative, Ozzy knows how to keep his secrets.

“How big is your family?” Sherwin asked curiously, shifting so he wasn’t taking up too much space in the booth.

Twi returned to the table with a tray of drinks and a meno under her arm. “Alright kiddos,” She set the tray on the table and began passing out full glasses. “Two iced teas for blondie and the miss, water with a lemon slice for baby blues, and a coke for the brat.” Taking back the tray, tucking it under her other arm, she offered the menu to Sherwin. “Anything to drink for you sweetie?”

He took the menu with a thankful smile. “Do you have any Fanta soda?” He asked.

The adult tapped her chin with a black nail polished finger, her purple lips puckered in thought. “I believe we have canned Crush if that will work.” She looked down at him with some kind of expectation.

Sherwin nodded. “That will be fine, thank you.”

Twi grinned down at him. “I like your manners kid,” she wagged a finger at the ginger giving Ozzy a pointed look. “You should be taking notes.” With that she walked away again.

Ozzy rolled his eyes, pulling out one of the base packets from the pyramid. “Anyway,” he started. “It’s just my grandparents, Ma, Dad, uncle Drake and Comet, aunt Twi and Brandi, my cousin Nicholas, my sister, and me.” He explained as he removed a packet on the second level. “That’s excluding all of my dad’s friends that are basically family.”   
The face Ozzy had was blank as he talked, it wasn’t a story about what one of his relatives did, it was just about his family. He always seemed to sound disinterested when asked about them, but ask him how they were doing or who did what brought on a completely different tone.

Sherwin just hummed, taking the information given and leaving the topic in favor of the menu in front of him.  
Sean’s eyes narrowed at him, pulling his drink close. The lack of visible curiosity bothered him for some reason. He’s known Ozzy for years; sleep overs, birthday parties, pet funerals, every rant and every mindless ramble. Sean had little reason for wonder, Ozzy’s small but irritable quirks aside, compared to Sherwin who has been only tutoring Ozzy for a few weeks. Granted, Sean didn’t know about the tutoring or even the fact that Ozzy was struggling, it’s hard to tell when one topic ends and another begins when the catcher is talking, the blonde tends to zone out.  
Despite that, still, Sean is a bit bothered with Jonathan’s rash decision to invite him to lunch then Liane inviting him to “hang out” after practice. 

Jonathan, who was observing the other customers around them. Jonathan was simple to understand, he abided by his personal values and defaults himself to the nice stereotype. Whenever something unexpected happens, he reroutes himself to friendly gestures. For instance, the redhead sitting with them presently, the only thing different is that Sherwin has a second connection in their friend group.  
On another hand, Liane was the most surprising. She actually seems to like Sherwin so far. Fitting in his pretty boy label that she gave. As for what she specifically means by that, only heaven knows.

Said teen socialite scowled at something on her phone, biting the end of her straw. “Uck,” She scoffed. “Penelope posted that she’s thinking about getting a pet to, quote, “liven up her lonely life,” unquote, on her school blog.” Liane turned her phone to Sean, showing the post’s photo of the inside of a pet store focusing on a small pen of kittens.

Sean pondered over the photo for a moment. “Weren’t you talking about that last Friday?”

She took her phone quickly, eyes wide and blazing. “I know, right?”

Twi returned again with another tray balanced on her hand and shoulder and a large cup of orange soda, the straw dancing around the ice as she walked. She set down the cup in front of Sherwin with a playful wink at him before carefully setting the tray on the table. Ozzy scooped his mostly dismantled creamer pyramid into his lap as the woman set a basket of chicken strips and onion rings in front of him. A fruit salad was given to Liane, Sean accepted his chopped chicken salad, and Jonathan took his crispy chicken sandwich and potato wedges with a thank you.  
“Have you decided what you want, sweetie?” Twi asked Sherwin, prepping her pen and pad.  
Sherwin’s eyes skimmed over the menu again. “Um, the egg salad sandwich and chips sound good, please.” He answered as he picked up the menu to hand it to her.  
She quickly scribbled down the order and took the menu, grabbing the empty tray as well before she left.

Sean stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork and stuck it in his mouth, watching as Liane proceeded to scroll through the posts on her phone. The table being relatively quiet.

“Hey Sherwin,” Ozzy said after swallowing a bite. “I heard somewhere that you’re part French, that true?” He glanced at the redhead while reaching for his coke.

Sherwin nodded, his brows knit together in a curious expression of the random topic. “Half on my father’s side.” He answered. “Why do you ask?”

The latino shrugged. “Conversation, I guess.” He grinned playfully.

“Well, we can still work on your french if you’re bored.” Sherwin offered with a raised brow, he slowly reached for his school bag on the floor beside the booth seat.

Anxious laugh rattles Ozzy’s body. “No thanks! I’ve had enough of school for today.” The strained smile on his face relaxed as the other laughed softly.  
Jonathan coughed into his fist after swallowing a bite of his sandwich. “So what is the other half?” He asked, an earnestly curious expression.

Sherwin’s eyes quickly dropped to the table, his fingers tapping along the worn down edge, pink dusting his features almost instantly. “Um, Scottish-American.”  
Jonathan nodded, granting a fresh charming smile in the ginger’s direction, seemingly unbothered by Sherwin’s sudden shy demeanor.

Sean fought the urge to roll his eyes at the scene. Like he was thinking earlier, a blushy, anxious redhead. Nothing personal, seriously, but the blonde found himself agreeing with Liane’s statement form this morning, Sherwin should stay in his league. Maybe someone just as blushy and anxious as he is.

“Here you are, sweetie.” Twi strolled back to the table, carrying Sherwin’s order. “Anything else for you lot?” She set the plate in front of him before glancing around at partially touched drinks. A collection of head shakes.  
“Alright, you know where to find me when you’re ready to leave.” She walked off briskly again, her long black braid swinging behind her.

Silence fell over them again before Liane twisted around in her seat. “Gather together and say cheese.” She ordered as she attempted to angle her selfie camera to get all five of them in the shot. Jonathan discreetly held her ponytail to the side, out of her fruit salad, as he smiled at the camera. Ozzy hugged his two seatmates close with the biggest grin, leaning on the table.

“Cheese!”  
Liane smiled in approval, turning back around, her thumbs tapping away at the screen before putting the device down on the table, and happily eating her fruit.

As Ozzy’s arm slipped from his shoulders, Sean’s hope for common sense diminished. Liane was his last hope and then she took that picture for her blog. He knows this because he knows Liane, anything to one up Penelope, and what better way to do that than a photo with the star of this morning’s ruckus. Probably with some fake preppy text like “new friends in strange places” or “adding to our numbers.”  
It was the final nail in the coffin, with that one post, Liane wasn’t going to let Sherwin go. Sherwin is officially a “friend.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Bye Auntie!” Ozzy called, waving inside the shop as he followed the others outside, covering a burp with his hand as he skipped down the steps. The air was cool with the early autumn season, everything bathed in a fiery orange light of the setting sun. “Alright, what’s next? I know the arcade has a Dance Dance Revolution dance off, eh Sean,” he nudged the blonde grinning slyly. “I can count on you right buddy?”

Sean leaned away from him. “Sorry, man, I got a book report to finish.” He patted the pouting teen in a stiff apology.  
But Ozzy quickly recovered turning to Sherwin and Jonathan. “How about it guys? I mean, I would ask Liane but she, and I quote, would rather listen to BOTDF rather than be my dance partner.”  
Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t do machine dancing, you know that.” He said before quickly adding. “But I will come for emotional support, I guess?”   
Ozzy turned to his last hope for the dual competition with hands laced together against his chest, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes.  
The ginger looked up from his phone with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Ozzy, if I don’t leave now I’ll be late for my piano lesson.” He explained guiltily, watching the hope fall from Ozzy’s face.

“Do you need a ride home?” Sean asked, tucking his hands in his pockets. “My grandparents should be here soon.”

Sherwin turned to the taller teen with a polite smile, lightly waving his hand along with shaking his head. “Thanks, but I’ll just take the bus.” He said as he slowly started back away from them. “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys today.”

“Of course.” Jonathan’s head tilted curiously.  
“We’ll see you tomorrow, right?” Ozzy pried, stepping forward closer to the ginger.

Sherwin’s eyes widened in surprise, looking between the top four’s faces. Did they actually want him to stick around them? This wasn’t a fake promise? What if it was a prank of some sort?  
The thought twisted his insides harshly. He smiled nonetheless. “Well, we do go to the same school.” He answered finally before turning around and heading off to the bus stop.

“I don’t think he believes us.” Jonathan mused thoughtfully, turning to face the other three.

“Well, duh,” Liane scoffed. “He’s bullied, mocked, and harassed by the “cool kids” older than us. No doubt he has a few suspicions.” She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her chin with her phone. “Though I do think we can quickly change that.”

“He seems pretty chill,” Ozzy declared, tying his uniform sweater around his waist. “Y’know when he’s not flustered by Jonny-boy or trying to avoid getting caught by some asshole.” He ignored the frown directed at him, waving his hands in the air exaggeratedly. “I mean, come on, the guy plays piano. What dude who plays the piano isn’t chill?”  
The three turned to look at Sean, who was watching the cars pulling up to or away from the diner, watching for his grandfather’s volkswagen. He turned to them when he realized they weren’t talking anymore.

“What?” The blonde demanded.

Jonathan looked him up and down. Sean wasn’t exactly discreet about his dislike of Sherwin, but that did leave a little wonder to his exact thoughts. “What do you think of him?”

Sean stared at him evenly, a blank expression, silent. What did he think of Sherwin? Did it really matter at this point? Most likely not, but at least they were asking. Honestly, what does he think about the ginger? The most annoying thing so far was how fast Sherwin got involved in their group really. Why was he being a prick about it? Sherwin was just following someone else’s whims, when had Sean done any different?  
The blonde turned to the road as a blue volkswagen atlas suv pulled up to the diner, it was his grandparents. He turned to his friends, giving a shrug. “He’s…. Strange.” He answered finally before climbing into the backseat.  
The three waved to the grumpy-looking elderly man behind the wheel as the suv pulled away from the sidewalk.

When the car was gone Ozzy heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging deeply. “I still don’t have a partner for the doubles portion of the competition.” He started walking off, leading to the arcade, his head hanging sadly. Jonathan followed with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sure there will be someone there willing to dance with you for the doubles.” Liane said, hoping she was right. God forbid the energetic guy doesn’t get a dance buddy. “And I’ll record every minute of you breaking records.”

Ozzy sighed again before giving a lone chuckle. “Thanks Liane.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“How was school today, love?” A beautiful red-haired woman asked the boy seated at the white grand piano, watching his pale, slender fingers gliding along the keys with practiced ease. He played well the lullaby his father taught him. It brought a smile to her pink painted lips.

Sherwin didn’t read from the music sheet in front of him, he didn’t need to. He knew this song from the number of times it was played for him specifically, the number of times his father would sing it over the phone when he was working across the seas as a toddler. The cute little song he and his cousin would sing together when they visited in the summer.  
“It was surprisingly a good day.” He answered after playing the final note, looking up to smile at her. “I made some new friends.”

The woman clapped her hands together delicately. “That’s wonderful, sweetie!” She approached the bench, her translucent pink robe shifting and swaying with every movement revealing the black nightie beneath. She brought the boy into her arms, hugging him close. “I’m so happy for you.”   
Sherwin wrapped his arms around her waist, a smile gracing his own lips. When he pulled back he looked up it her, looking into identical amber eyes. She combed her manicured nails through his red curls and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s call it a night, dear. How about a treat to celebrate?”


	4. Everyone Wants Treats Early In The Morning

A bright new day looking to be just as beautiful as the last, forecast only showing a few clouds, a playful breeze greeting any and all that decided to walk.  
Vehicles of all sorts pulled up alongside the sidewalk near Newgate’s Private Academy. Students climbing out of cars or walking tiredly from the bus stop in a steady gathering, greeting each other and looking for friends.

Ozzy, with a shiny red wagon trailing behind him, rolled semi-carefully through the gathering mass on his skateboard, calling out warnings of his quick approach to the less than willingly awake teens. His board brought to a stop beside a blue BMW that Sean was sliding out of.

“Morning!” He chirped too cheerfully for so early, waving at the kindly old woman in the car’s driver seat. Sean grunted far less enthusiastically as he shut the door.

The window of the passenger door rolled slowly down. Sean’s grandmother beamed out at the two boys with an affection only a loving woman her age could show.  
“Good morning, Ozzy.” She greeted pleasantly once the window was completely down.

“G’morning, Nana Smith.” He returned with another wave. “How is your hip?”

“Much better, thank you for asking.” The elderly woman pointed a frail, boney finger at the glove compartment inside the car. “Sean, could you be a dear and get the baggies for you and your friends from the glove compartment?” She asked.

Automatically, the blonde opened the door then the small internal compartment, grabbing the small, clear plastic bags. Sean counted five and froze.

“There are five baggies, Nana.” He looked up at her, worriedly clenching his jaw.

“Well, of course there are dear.” Nana Smith exclaimed, her thin brows furrowing together. “Ozzy’s little sister gets a baggie too.” She gave him a look of concerned wonder.

Right, of course, his nana always remembered to make an extra bag for Isabela, she adored the little girl that just loved being spoiled rotten. Sean never brought up Sherwin or anything relating to the possibility of a new friend - more like acquaintance.  
The blonde’s shoulders relaxed, he bit back a sigh of relief.

Right.” He said, putting on a tired smile. “Thank you, Nana.” He hand two of the bags to Ozzy through the window then shut the glove compartment.

“I wonder if you studied too late last night.” Nana Smith tsked, watching as her grandson shut the car door. “Have a good day boys!”

Ozzy already had his skateboard resting in the wagon, adding the two goodie bags, he waved the sweet woman goodbye as he and Sean walked toward the school gates.

“Have I ever said that I love your Nana?” Ozzy asked, grabbing one of the baggies from his wagon and opening it.

“Only everytime she bakes treats to share.” Sean answered.

“And apparently our new friend doesn’t get one?” Ozzy side glanced at him smugly with a soft baked cookie in his mouth.

“I’m surprised you didn’t tell her yourself.”

The hispanic teen shrugged, still chewing the cookie. “It’s not my job to tell your guardians about your life.”

Further ahead on the path, closer to the shrub wall, a familiar red-haired boy was cowering in the grip of a dark-haired female student that was not Liane.  
The boys recognized her as Penelope Fán, Liane’s rival blogger. Penelope frequently tries to socialize with the Top Four, or at least the boys, with Barbie plastic positivity or attempts to flirt with Jonathan to at least get him on her side. So far her attempts have been unsuccessful in every turn.  
The only form of influence she has are her two older brothers on the lacrosse team, Dave and Eric. But they’ll be going to the highschool side of campus next year so…  
As for the reason she would be terrorizing Sherwin, there was only one.

“Hey Penny.” Ozzy greeted casually, tying up his goodie bag. “What’s up?”

Sean shot a discreet glare at the shorter teen. He wanted to walk by the problem and go inside the school building, but no, Ozzy wanted to help the helpless ginger. Is it really only Wednesday?

Penelope jumped, her attention instantly turning on the two boys approaching. A bright smile quickly replaced her shock. “Hey guys!” She greeted cheerfully, hiding her hand behind her back and tilting her head to the side. An obvious position to appear innocent, Liane uses it often enough whenever Ozzy gets himself in trouble with a teacher.  
“Ozzy, you know I don’t like being called Penny.” The asian girl spoke with an annoyingly squeaky giggle that only Betty Boop could pull off.

Ozzy cocked his own head sideways, mocking her with a charming grin. “I could call you something else,” he offered, his grin turning mean. “But it wouldn’t be nice.

Sean’s eyes quickly found the shrub wall on the other side of the school pathway fascinating when Penelope shot a pout in his direction. He didn’t even want to be affiliated with the situation, don’t ask him for help!  
The girl quickly got the message, her pout becoming frustrated. “That’s not very gentlemanly of you.” She said, raising her voice enough to be heard by their passing schoolmates. “Why are you being so mean Ozzy?” Maybe now he will behave.

Laughable. Penelope clearly forgot she was talking to the delinquent of the group, and since Sean wasn’t going to stop him, Ozzy was a free man.  
“Well, I never knew you were a lady,” Ozzy snickered, not caring if anyone heard him. “You don’t act like one.”

Her pout dropped completely, a glare taking over. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. The Top Four were respectable, charismatic, and cared for their image more than anything. That was real wasn’t it? The spotlight, the admiration and adoration of their peers, favoritism of their teachers?  
Penelope shook her head, her expression turning to hurt, her head bowing. “That’s not really you, is it?” She asked softly, bringing her hands forward and clasping them together. “The real Ozzy isn’t so rude o-or mean.”

The mean grin dropped, his eyes darkened giving him a deadly expression. “What would you know about being real ‘Penny’?” He asked, stepping forward menacingly. “The only real you are is a real b-”

“What’s going on here?” A new voice asked lightly. The three turned to see the Four’s main man. Jonathan eyed Ozzy’s scary stance and Sean’s attempt to disappear on the spot, then Penelope’s stunned expression. “Is something wrong?” He questioned curiously but edging with seriousness.

Penelope quickly took advantage of how the situation appeared and moved quickly to cling on to Jonathan’s arm, partially hiding herself behind him. “Jonny, Ozzy is being mean to me.” She declared in a well heard whine, another sad pout taking place.  
The boy visibly cringed at the nickname, giving the other two a pleading look, yet Penelope paid no mind to his discomfort.

After a moment, Jonathan forced a small cough, clearing his throat, as he adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag across his chest, stepping the slightest inch away from her. “Oh, is that so?” The smile he put on was obviously and painfully false as the teen looked from her to Ozzy. “Why is that Oz? Sean?” His smile quickly changed from false to scarily intense, he was not enjoying having Penelope hanging on him like a vice, or y’know, like the snake she is. Not like the guy didn’t enjoy having someone in his personal space. Actually, it’s just like that; Jonathan Corazul did not like people he isn’t friendly, or any kind of casual, with touching him. It was an unknown fact.  
Ozzy brought his free hand up in defense, letting the handle of the wagon rest against his leg. “Hey, I wouldn’t have said anything if she wasn’t trying to rip Sherwin’s arm from the socket.” He looked around the area where he saw the ginger back up to after the two’s approach. “And who… I guess is no longer here.” He added trailing off at the end as he started actually looking around their small gathering and at the other students passing by.

Jonathan looked to Sean, who shrugged, honestly looking around as well. Sherwin just seemed to have disappeared.

“He was just here.” Ozzy muttered, peering over the waist-high hedges. “I’m telling you.”

Jonathan eyed the tree not much farther ahead of them suspiciously before tilting his head and looking at the girl still hanging on his arm. “Is this true Penelope?” He asked in a tone similar to a kindergarten teacher talking to a pair of toddlers that fought over the same toy. “Were you bothering Sherwin?”

Her nose was quick to rise with indignation, a scoff leaving her mouth. “That nobody? It wouldn’t be worth my time even looking at him much less speaking to him.” She answered haughtily.

“‘S not what it looked like~” Ozzy said quietly in a sing song voice. “Tell him Sean.”

The blonde shot him another glare as the other two turned their attention to him. Why did this moron have to drag him into everything? Sean met Jonathan’s eyes, noting the slowly rising desperation to remove their classmate from his person.  
“We didn’t hear what Penelope was saying to him but she did have a fierce hold on his arm. Poor guy didn’t look too terribly comfortable.” He spoke in a monotone, not really caring or wanting to be involved.

Jonathan eyed Penelope again, this time pulling his arm out of her grip and stepping away. The expression he had was one of hurt, a face he had more perfected than she did. “Really Penelope?” He demanded softly, amazing how he can play a new part on the spot. Judging by the stunned and regretful reaction she was showing, he was playing it well. “I know you don’t get along with many people but you could at least respect them. My friends included.” He shook his head disappointedly.

Penelope was quick to try and save herself. “Wait- No, it wasn’t like that. Jonny-” Her hand reached out for him again.

“Maybe you should rethink how you treat others.” Jonathan backed away from her and closer to Sean and Ozzy. “And consider an apology to Sherwin.” He turned and walked between the two, adding in a more somber tone, “let’s go find him guys.”  
Sean turned first, remembering he still had the goodie bags and readjusting his hold on them, following the shorter teen. Ozzy grinned smugly at Penelope before following his friends, dragging his wagon along.

Jonathan turned at the tree, pushing through the groomed plant-life, shuddering freely once he was hidden from their peers.  
Ozzy carried his wagon overhead through the brush, looking around at the open space between them, the tree, and the campus wall.

“So… What are we doing here?” He asked, resting the bottom of the wagon on his head.

Taking a deep inhale and exhale, Jonathan examined the base of the tree. No Sherwin anywhere. “This is the tree I found Sherwin behind yesterday when he ran off.” He explained still staring wondrously among the roots as if the red-head would just miraculously appear. “I just thought…”

“Heads up!” Another voice called. Unfortunately it wasn’t soon enough as something still landed on Jonathan’s head dropping him to his knees. A school bag landed beside him, not his own though, the unlucky teen realized while rubbing the aching spot on his scalp as if that would soothe it.  
All three boys looked up at the branches hanging well above them. Sitting among them, staring apologetically down, was Sherwin, his legs dangling over both sides of the branch he was on.

“Morning!” Ozzy greeted with a laugh. “You’re a quick one to run, huh?”

The ginger snorted, locking his ankles together and falling over the side of the branch. “Not fast enough, obviously.” He joked nervously as he held his shirt in place over his stomach as he just hung from the branch. “Sorry about my bag Jonathan.”

The hurting teen waved off the apology with a weak smile as he stood back up. “It was just an accident, ah,” he cringed as his fingertips brushed a very tender spot. “Could’ve happened to anyone.” Perhaps he’ll grab an ice pack from the nurse before class, Jonathan thought to himself - ignoring Ozzy’s comment about wagon protection.

“How did you even get up there?” Sean asked awestruck as he eyed the tree trunk from its roots to the branch Sherwin hung from, mentally measuring the distance and comparing it to his height. It didn’t seem to add up. The blonde, himself, couldn’t touch the lowest branch without a well timed jump and he was taller than the other three.

Sherwin curled back up, grabbing the branch with his hands and releasing his legs. “A cousin on my mom’s side taught me how to climb trees with a belt or a rope.” He explained before dropping to the ground, bending his knees as he landed. “Weirdly enough, I had a small bit of rope in my bag.” He picked up the bag and putting the strap over his shoulder. “One of the dogs probably dropped it in there when no one was looking.”  
“You have dogs?” Ozzy asked almost excitedly. 

The ginger froze, a clear expression of distress and silent self insult flashing across his face. “Well, uh,” Sherwin bobbed his head sideways with a small shrug. “They aren’t ours. My mom just trains them and does a sort-of daycare for a few friends. Just something to keep busy while I’m at school and dad is working overseas.”

“Must be a tough wake up call in the mornings.” Sean commented. “All the barking.”

Sherwin nodded in agreement, an anxious smile tugging on his mouth. “Yea, it was. I moved into the pool house so it got better.”

“What!” Ozzy exclaimed startling the other teens, a few other students peering curiously at them from the pathway. “You have a pool!” His head snapped between Sean and Jonathan aggressively. “This guy has his own pool and we’ve been sneaking swim sessions at Sean’s or fooling around at the beach. What the hell?”

“You’ve been sneaking what at my house?” Sean demanded, his expression was somewhere between offended and curious. “You guys know grandfather’s nature pond is beyond off limits.”

Jonathan shook his head at their bickering with a chuckle. “Come on you guys, let’s find Liane before class.” He stepped through the hedge again. Sean followed behind him, grumbling unhappily about recent information. Ozzy snickered to himself shooting Sherwin a grin as they joined the other two, putting his wagon down.

He saw the two goodie bags in the bed of the wagon beneath his carefully placed skateboard and glanced up at the redhead. Sean wasn’t the nicest guy to Sherwin to begin with, Ozzy thought, but no one should be deprived of Nana Smith’s baked goods. He can give his own bag to Isabela.  
Ozzy picked up the untouched baggie and offered it to Sherwin. “Here, Sean’s nana makes some for everyone.” He give the ginger a big grin, ignoring the holes being burned into the back of his skull.

Sherwin honestly appeared surprised at the offering as he took it. The mention of the baked goods resulted in Jonathan turning to Sean, who instantly jumped at the attention.  
Damn his grandmother and her spoiling habits, she has his friends surrounding him like pigeons to an old woman in a park. But what the hell, Ozzy? Offering up your sister’s cookies? Do you have a death wish?  
The blonde dropped a baggie into the waiting hand that the latino held out.

“I didn’t realize it was cookie day.” Jonathan commented, a pleased smile as he withdrew his hand, tucking the bag into his bookbag for later. “I’ll have to tell her my thanks after practice.”

“Why don’t your guys’ grandparents spoil you themselves?” Sean asked grumpily, carefully stuffing one of the two last baggies into his own bag, vaguely hearing Sherwin comment on Ozzy’s ungelled hair.

“Mine don’t bake.” Ozzy answered before turning to the redhead. “Yea, I had to run my sister to her school so I didn’t have time. It’s not too bad is it?” The teen combed his fingers through the messy chocolate locks, trying to slick it back.

“Oh, not bad at all. It looks better like this.” Sherwin replied, waving Ozzy’s hand away from his head. “And I don’t see mine too often, I do the baking.”

“Mine are enjoying retirement in Mexico and Brazil.” Jonathan added with a bob of his head.  
The three boys had smiles in various levels of humor at the blonde’s loud groan. It was too early for this.

“And to change the subject,” Ozzy spoke up, raising a finger and aiming it at Sherwin. “What happened with Penny earlier?” He asked, jerking a thumb at the pouty girl surrounded by her pity party and brothers.  
The two boys ahead of them paused at the first step to the school doors, turning around to look at them. Sean didn’t want to be curious but it was a human trait, a horrible, horrible human trait that he could not help. Meanwhile, Jonathan just wanted to know the whole story; he was well aware Penelope puts on a facade whenever a situation arrives that she deems could put her on the up and up in the school’s social hierarchy, he wants the truth.

“Um, well…” Sherwin’s head rolled from one shoulder to the other, a strange expression somewhere between an anxious smile and a grimace. “Nothing I’m not used to,” his eyes quickly paced the other’s faces before settling on the ground, curling in on himself, any trace of even a forced smile gone. “That I’m pathetic, useless, a waste of oxygen, so on and so forth.” He bit the inside of his cheek, grabbing at the strap of his bag, avoiding looking up at any of them.  
Sherwin didn’t see the fury in Ozzy’s face, the frown on Jonathan’s, or the guilt in Sean’s. He waited for them to just change the topic again, hoped for it actually. Anything to get the focus off of him. He’s dealt with the treatment for years already, usually from Penelope’s brothers and the rest of the lacrosse team, he’s used to it. He didn’t expect a gentle hand patting his back or looking up to see kind smiles, even from Sean.

“Forget her, Win.” Ozzy stopped his patting, hooking an arm around the ginger’s neck. “She’s nothing but false appearances with high expectations.” He waved a lazy hand backward at the pity party behind them. “And many other things Jon would bench me for saying.”

Jonathan nodded with a shrug, not denying the statement. It was true, he did put Liane in charge of Lucas LaMoore yesterday for mouthing off after all.  
Ozzy squeezed Sherwin close in an awkward kind of neck hug, discovering that he was maybe an inch shorter than the redhead. “We gotcha man.”

Suddenly, the school door slammed open, ruining the touching moment and startling the four boys and everyone else still arriving to the school. Liane glared hotly at them, her hand still on the door as if it wasn’t already obvious she was the one who opened it while her other hand clutched her cellphone in a white-knuckle grip otherwise she seemed completely composed.  
“I,” she began with a hefty exhale, “have been waiting-” a dramatic pause with pursed lips to stop herself from losing her composure “-for twenty minutes,” she stormed towards them with swift, dainty steps, her uniform buckle shoes clicking against the cement step. “While you gentlemen had a hug-out?”

The boys could only exchange looks with one another, unsure of how to explain without certainty if it would appease her or anger her further, the silence not helping their situation judging by how she crossed her arms expectantly.  
Per usual, Ozzy put himself in harm's way by approaching her, releasing his hold on Sherwin, and raising his hands in defense. “Relax, honey-pop,” his hands dropped, one grabbing ahold of the wagon handle again. Liane raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Penelope had an episode with Win and he disappeared for a bit. Had to find him.”

Her glare eased into skeptical, eyes glancing up at the pity party making its way towards the building. “Typical.” She said finally, shrugging out of her anger and relaxing her stance, holding her phone up to eye level. “She did post a whole rant last night on her blog. Take a guess about what.” Her eyes roamed between the boys before turning on her heel, skirt flying around her legs, and walking back inside, leaving the question unanswered.

“It’s too early for this.” Seam complained lowly, his shoulders slacking deeply, following after her.  
Jonathan chuckled, his head shaking with a small bit of sympathy. He looked back at Ozzy and Sherwin; Ozzy had picked up his wagon again, holding it over his head; Sherwin played with the goodie bag in his hands absentmindedly, smiling more confidently when he noticed Jonathan was looking at him. “It’s only Wednesday, right?” Then he walked up the steps, the remaining two trailing after him snickering nonsensically like the statement was an inside joke.

Sherwin ignored the feeling of eyes on him as he let Ozzy through the door first. Maybe his worries yesterday were needless, having been so far proven wrong. There was a change going on for all of them and maybe it was going to be for the better. He was certainly looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing new people that will stick around for a while. Like them, hate them, they're here to cause trouble just the same as the main cast. Thanks for reading dolls~


	5. Show 'Em Some Class

“Hey Sherwin,” Liane addressed the redhead as the boys reconvened at her locker. “What’s your number?” Her hazel eyes rolled in their sockets at his blank stare when she looked up from her phone. “So we can keep in touch for, like, a weekend thing or whatever.” She added, waving her phone in the air then pushing the device into his hand.  
He fumbled with it for a second, seeing the contact information screen empty of anything but his name.

“You could have asked me.” Ozzy said, shifting in his spot leaning against a neighboring locker. “I have his digits.” He waved his hand in a “call me” signature with his pinky and thumb extended lazily, quickly and casually winking at a pair of passing girls earning some giggles and eyerolls.

Sherwin looked from the electronic in his hands with a confused expression. “You do?” The ginger asked. “Since when?” The other three eyed Ozzy curiously, a single question on their minds.

“Uh, Arlene Hupher is in your chemistry class, right?” The latino questioned with an innocent smile.

Confusion dropped from Sherwin’s face to one that basically called Ozzy an idiot. “Arlene is an eighth grader.” He explained slowly. “I don’t have chemistry.” His head shaking slowly as he finished typing his number into Liane’s phone then handed it back to the girl.  
Liane brought a hand up to cover her mouth, hiding the smile and preventing a laugh while Sean gave a snort, and Jonathan’s head shook, shoulders bouncing in quiet laughter as realization dawned upon the poor teen.

“That would explain… a lot.” Ozzy said vaguely, a number of untold experiences crossing over his eyes. A blink and an uncomfortable cough later, he stood up straighter against the locker. “So, Win, mind if I get your number too?”

The redhead laughed softly, holding out his hand and nodding. Ozzy quickly pulled up Sherwin’s contact on his phone before handing it over.  
A chime went off in Sherwin’s bag that went unacknowledged under the assumption that it was a message from Liane.

Sherwin returned Sean’s phone by the time the first bell went off, promises of meeting up for lunch before everyone separated to their classes.  
Liane strolled into her photography class, waving to a few classmates as she took her usual seat; front row closest to the door. The girl sitting beside her spared a glance from the magazine on her own desk then puppy-eared the page she was on, closing the probably trashy piece of literature.

“So Liane,” Miranda Greenwall spoke, turning in her seat. Dark curls held back with a pink handkerchief with the knot off center acting as a bow, purple gloss making her pursed lips shimmer in the light accentuating the sparse freckles over her nose and under her eyes.

“So Miranda,” Liane replied placing her phone face down atop her desk before turning to face the other girl.

Jon and Sherwin, huh?” A practiced mask of indifference did little to hide the reporter in her eyes. Without a doubt Miranda had been waiting impatiently for the whole story while everyone else in their school had been making every assumption under the sun and started rumors, waiting for everything to settle before getting the right details. She did manage the gossip column.

Liane shook her head, loosening a few strands of hair from behind her ears. “Nope.” She tucked those strands back into place. “Jon is too focused on school to bother with a relationship. Sherwin is just a friend.” Not entirely true but not entirely false. She’s known Jonathan since they were toddlers, any relationship involving romance is the very last thing on his mind, one reason or another, he just didn’t seem interested.

A pitying expression replaced the indifference. “Poor guy - Sherwin, I mean.” Miranda murmured sympathetically before her brow arched suspiciously. “And friends? With all of you?”

Liane sighed, rolling her fingers on the plastic surface as she thought out what to say. “Well… He’s been tutoring Ozzy in french so they get along pretty well, I can see him fitting in with slight changes to his habits, and Sean hasn’t outright said anything offensive about him so that’s a good sign.” She watched the light reflect off her sheer nail polish, then her head shot up with a thought. “And - tell me I’m not crazy - Sherwin is a pretty boy, right? So image goes by at least five.”

Miranda nodded without hesitation. “So true. A little eyeliner and a tiny bit of gloss would boost him to a seven, maybe a different brand of hair conditioner.” She twisted the pink and white bead bracelet around her left wrist. “So, the boys like him?”

The blogger scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. “Are you kidding? Ozzy was practically all over him yesterday after practice and, like I said, Sean wasn’t offensive, he even gave Sherwin some of his nana’s cookies this morning.”

“And Jon?” 

“Like its no big deal, as usual.” Liane shrugged. “I mean, he did give Lucas LaMoore extra warmups for bad talking Sherwin,” she leaned into the aisle between them, her tone becoming hushed and secretive, causing the other to lean in as well. “And, I don’t know the full story but Jon even shooed off Penelope-” she paused and both girls looked up as Penelope herself entered the room looking as sour as earlier. They waited until she passed and sat down before huddling together again. “He shooed her off for harassing Sherwin this morning.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know,” Liane giggled. “I wish I was there to see her reaction.”

“By the way,” Miranda leaned back, sitting straight in her seat again. “I saw your post yesterday. Love. It.” She stretched and relaxed her pale hands on those two words. “I just had to reblog.”

“Thank you,” Liane sighed with relief. “I was beginning to think it was a little generic.”

Miranda waved off her worries, patting the girl’s leg. “We’ve been over this Liane, originality no longer exists. Everything is just a rehash of something else.” She took the magazine from her desk and carefully tucked it away in her bag, taking out her notebook. “Plus with Sherwin around you guys maybe the “Phobics” will shut up finally.”

The blogger gave her friend a hopeful smile. “Possibly.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Mister Corazul,” Ms. Glazmire drawled stopping in front of Jonathan’s desk, scowling down at him from behind half-moon spectacles, the already deep lines of her face deepening. Imagine a gargoyle had bred with a banshee and you can easily picture the ancient woman towering over him that looked like an accuser of the Salem trials. “Could you explain to me your absence yesterday in class?” She removed her spectacles slowly and needlessly cleaned them with a small cloth produced from her skirt pocket.  
Keep mind that Jonathan is a well respected and well liked student by his peers and his teachers. However, the one exception would be Ms. Glazmire who simply didn’t like anyone, even the headmistress was scared of her.

Jonathan managed a weak smile, hands folded politely atop his desk. “A classmate was upset after an… incident, as grade seven class president it was my duty to make sure he was alright.” The extra eyes on him didn’t help him keep his composure. “I am sorry for missing your class ma’am.”

The old woman’s scowl didn’t lighten a bit as she replaced her glasses. “I will allow it this once.” She hissed. “At least you have the mind to apologize. Perhaps let a teacher handle an ‘upset’ student next time so as you won’t be late for your own lessons.” 

Despite the desperate desire to argue her moral of ‘yourself above others’, Jonathan instead steadied his smile. “Of course, thank you, Ms. Glazmire.”

Ms. Glazmire gave a miffed huff before stalking to the front of the room, eyes following her stiff posture to the chalkboard.

Murciélago viejo de cuello rígido, he thought glaring at her back, his smile falling slightly as the lesson began.  
Malice or anger wasn’t something Jonathan dealt with often, but he would gladly watch his math teacher fling herself into a fire.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Hey Sean,” Ozzy whispered not-so quietly in their world history class, not that the teacher cared anyway. They only got handed reading packets and a roughly three minute lecture on Norse and Scandnavian culture. “What did you do the essay part on?” He peered over the blonde’s shoulder at his half completed essay about Baldur.

The vice captain shifted to obstruct the other’s view. “Write your own essay for once.” He spat quietly, leaning over the papers.

“Oh come on, man,” Ozzy whined, a crunching of paper signified that he may end up needing to straighten his packet before turning it in. “Please? I’ll owe you one.”

Sean rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

The latino huffed no doubt pouting at his back. “Oh, so acting like those “letters” were sent to the wrong locker wasn’t paying you back?” He spoke in a more hushed voice.

He had to bring that up, didn’t he? That was so sixth grade when they were locker neighbors. Well, Ozzy somehow convinced the actual guy who had the locker to swap with him and everyone just went along with it.  
But like hell Sean was just going to let Ozzy copy his hard work.  
“Fine, I’m writing about Vale.” The blonde spared a glance back at him. “Now leave me alone.”

The jerk smirked almost knowingly at him, head resting in his palm. “Nice lie but thanks for the idea.” Ozzy winked sticking his tongue out at him before looking down at his paper and began writing.

Sean just glared at him utterly baffled. This goddamned jerk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
“Thank you so much for your help, Sherwin.” Mr. Kreller patted the boy’s shoulder. “I know we were supposed to go over your tempo but I am grateful you agreed to substitute Jennifer for rehearsal.” The older man smiled down at him, his thick black mustache covering his upper lip.

“Of course, sir!” Sherwin exclaimed joyously. “I love Dear Evan Hansen, I just could not pass up the opportunity.” The teen was practically glowing as he smiled. “Not to mention it helped with adjusting my tempo.”

Kreller chuckled at him, nodding in agreement. “That is true, dear boy.” He looked over the members of the theatre club talking quietly amongst themselves during their break. “Have you ever thought of joining the club?” A bushy brow went up, he turned to look at his best student still seated at the piano. “I mean for next year since most art clubs don’t take members below grade eight, I do think you would make a nice addition.”

The ginger looked starstruck for just a moment before curling in on himself. “R-really? I don’t know. I hardly perform for any one person rather than an entire audience. To do so on stage beneath a spot light?” He started rambling insecurely, wringing his hand in his lap.

The instructor touched his shoulder again, making Sherwin freeze up, kneeling down to be eye level. “I’m just saying to think about it Sherwin, you still have the rest of the year to decide.” He said calmly before quirking his brow again, a more teasing expression taking place. “And I’ve heard you singing Hamilton from my office, I know an excellent performer when I see one.”   
Sherwin ducked under the man’s large hand ruffling his curls as he stood up. “Just think about it.” Mr. Kreller winked at him before walking away from the boy, back toward the stage while clapping his hands for attention from the older students.

Sherwin watched him go, fixing his hair and smiling, an answer already in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say it now that Jonny-boi has a bad temper. It takes a while to get there but when you get there, get ready to be destroyed in spanish. The only one that can make him snap in a split second would be Micheal - briefly mentioned in chapter 3.  
Mr. Kreller is the Theatre club adviser alongside Jennifer as well as music instructor, not many students take his music class so the poor man has a lot of free time in the mornings.  
And Ms. Glazmire is simply what Jon called her - a stiff necked old bat.


	6. Color Them Curious

“Hey Jon,” Ozzy jogged to their usual table where the baseball captain and vice captain sat either eating or avoiding to eat the school’s subpar chili, his own lunch tray held in a concerningly loose grip. The catcher noted the lack of their resident dragon lady, “no Liane yet?” Quickly shaking his head to refocus himself as he dropped on to the stool beside Sean. “Nevermind. Jon, I might be skipping on practice today.” He said breathily, rubbing one of his eyes with the heel of his palm.

The captain looked from his serving of chili, a blinky curiously at Ozzy. “You might?” He asked, raising a brow as his head cocked to the side. “Why?”

“Because I need to talk to Win about a study sesh.” The teen explained, a hand combing through his untamed hair, pushing it out of his face. “I got a big review on Friday and my pronunciation needs a lot of work then my spelling, a miracle.” He groaned before dropping his head on to the tabletop with a hard thunk. The other two cringed at the sound.

Despite the number of times Jonathan was ironfisted about practice, especially with a game coming up so soon, he wasn’t about to lose his teammate to a bad grade yet. “Yea, sure, Oz.” He replied sympathetically. “Just try to come in for morning practice tomorrow, alright?” Tearing a piece off his crumbling cornbread and dipping it in the chili bowl, watching Ozzy’s head lift from the plastic surface.

Ozzy’s mouth spread into a smile, sitting upright again. “You’re a hero, cap.”

“I’m not the one helping with your grades.”

“Okay you’re the sidekick then.” Ozzy snickered as the other just rolled his eyes.

Primarily stirring his chili around the bowl during the conversation, the cheap copy off any homemade version looking less and less appetizing with every stir. He looked over at Ozzy, who began squirting a few packets of hot sauce he probably took from his home stash of Taco Johns hots sauce into his serving, passing Jonathan a couple packets. “So you are sticking with calling Sherwin ‘Win’?” The blonde asked, not meaning to sound as bitter as he probably did.

The catcher sucked a goop of taco sauce off his thumb, raising a brow at the question. “Well, why not?” He questioned back, pulling his thumb from his mouth with an audible pop. “I call Jon ‘Jon’ and if Liane wouldn’t kill me for it I’d call her ‘Lia’.” Taking his own spoon and mixing in the copious amount of sauce he had dumped into his dish. “Did you want one?” Ozzy offered a remaining packet from nowhere.

Sean stared at the packet held out to him then to the teen offering it to him. After a moment, the blonde took the packet and tore it open over his bowl.

“You really don’t like Sherwin, do you Sean?” Jonathan commented making his vice captain look up with a deer-caught-in-headlights expression. Ozzy stuffed a spoonful of chili in his mouth, feeling a change in the mood.

Sean chewed his lip, yesterday’s questions coming back to haunt him. “It’s not that I don’t like him, per say,” he began slowly, he stirred his spoon around the dish as a stall for time. “Rather than, I don’t exactly understand the steps that were taken to get to this point in time that he is suddenly hanging out with us.” Sean didn’t meet Jonathan’s eyes feeling some variation of the guilt he had earlier this morning, Sherwin’s summary of his conversation with Penelope coming to mind. Simple human empathy, that’s what he had chalked it up to. There used to be a time that Sean had been bullied after all so he could relate, but to step in and help? No, that was Ozzy’s thing. Sean didn’t think himself influential enough to stop it. It was just another thing that happened in school.

Jonathan hummed to himself quietly, his gaze falling to the table then his tray. His silence was one of planning; words, actions, and thoughts, he plans each one carefully to the situation to try to get a favorable outcome. Anyone who didn’t know Jonathan would probably label him as manipulative.

“Honestly, Sean,” he spoke properly, formally, pushing his trey forward and folding his hands together in front of him. “I don’t understand it either. I didn’t tell Liane to invite him after practice yesterday, I never even expected her to.” His shoulders bounced in a shrug, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But I’m not entirely against it, I mean, Sherwin isn’t that bad to be around, right?”

The blonde eyed his captain, taking in his words.  _ Damn his nice-guy nature, _ he thought with a heavy exhale. “No, he’s not.”

Jonathan’s smile grew in the way that caused a few girls at the next table behind Sean and Ozzy to whisper intensely.

Ozzy turned in his seat to look at them, four or five girls leaning towards one another as each whispered over the other and giggled. He turned back after a moment just shaking his head and chuckling.

A few minutes of peace, dull chatter of socialization around their table, before a loud clatter silenced everything and all attention turned to the source of it, muffled bouts of laughter heard nearby.

Sherwin was lifting himself off the mess he tripped into, feeling his serving of chili seeping grossly through his sweater. Of all days to forget his undershirt.

He could hear Dave and Eric, and a few other lacrosse members snickering from their table, smugly staring down at the twins’ work. A few sets of footsteps clicked on the floor tiles, getting closer but a pair of buckle shoes stepped into view at his side first.

“Are you okay?” Liane asked, kneeling down to his level careful to not drop the hem of her skirt into the mess. She placed a hand on his shoulder, phone still in it while her tray was balanced with the other, as he sat back on his knees.

“Oops.” Dave sneered unapologetically, nudging his brother with his elbow snickering.

“What happened?” Mr. Kreller demanded gently upon his and Ms. Glazmire’s arrival. The old crone scowled down at Sherwin as if he was at fault for the disturbance. “Are you okay?”

The redhead just smiled weakly, plenty familiar with this routine. “Just tripped, sir, I’m fine.” He answered.

Liane scoffed at his half truth. “Was tripped actually and not on accident.” She stood up straight, ignoring the fallen boy’s stunned expression and glaring at the twins pointedly, neither of the two bothered hiding their wrong-doing. “Anything to say for yourselves.”

“Wow, stereotyping much?” Penelope questioned from the table on the other side of the incident, twirling a lock of her inky hair around a thin little finger. “Just because my brothers’ are jocks doesn’t mean they tripped him on purpose, they’re just big.” A cruel smile curling her lips as Liane turned to glare in her direction.

Jonathan, Ozzy, and Sean made their way over as Liane schooled her glared back to her usual unimpressed persona. “And if I have proof?” She asked waving her phone in a seemingly casual gesture, black screen glinting cleaning in the natural and artificial lighting.

“Accident or not, Mister Sherwin needs to get himself clean.” Ms. Glazmire spoke up, breaking the little war between the two girls as she readjusted her specs on the bridge of her beak of a nose with two boney digits, glowering down at the poor boy still. “It seems pointless to solve when all there is left to do is clean it up. Only just leaving another mess for our unfortunate custodian.”

“But, Miss Glazmire-”

“ _ Ms.  _ Glazmire, Joshua, remember that.” The old woman straightened herself enough to replace a yardstick, her chin pompously high, glaring at the taller man.

Mr. Kreller, ever patient, nodded at the correction. “Of course,  _ Ms. _ Glazmire, as I was saying,” he gestured to Sherwin being helped to his feet by Jonathan and Liane while Ozzy stared down each member of the lacrosse team, Sean quietly observing over their heads. “If we deal with this now there would be less mess later, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ms. Glazmire gave a haughty ‘humph,’ crossing her arms over her thin frame. “They are but children, they will tease one another respectively.” Mr. Kreller frowned at the woman in disbelief.

Liane stepped forward, restraint to keep her steps light and proper for the relic of a woman. “With all due respect, ma’am,” she met the teacher’s eyes evenly with no respect to match her words. “There is a line between ‘teasing’ and plainly ‘bullying’ - something Sherwin has put up with for far too long. It all boils down to immaturity and a lack of consequence, something you, the adult, are blatantly refusing to provide.” She smiled as she cooed the selective words as if she were the one speaking to a child, deepening the frown in Ms. Glazmire’s face, then turning to Mr. Kreller with a more pleasant behavior. “Now that just would not look good on the school’s image, right?”

The male teacher quirked a brow at her, moustache twitching in amusement. He looked to his coworker. “Miss Marks would be correct, wouldn’t you agree? Mustn't sully the school’s image.”

Ms. Glazmire gave another huff of annoyance but said nothing more.

Mr. Kreller nodded, casting his eyes over the students before him, settling them on the lacrosse team. “Do any of you have anything to confess?” He questioned calmly, accusation barely hinted at in his tone. “Miss Marks claims to have photographic proof someone intentionally tripped young Sherwin and that is just without his own perspective.” His hands linked together behind his back.

As his name was spoken, Sherwin lowered his head self-consciously wishing to just disappear, wishing he took his usual route away from the lacrosse team to the open doors and just ate outside. Liane sort of distracted him and he ended up following her.

How mortifying, he thought, fiddling with the hem of his sleeves.

“No?” The theatre advisor met eyes with each member evenly, not commenting when Dave and Eric exchanged concerned looks before simply dropping their eyes to their shoes. “Alright then,” he shrugged easily. “Miss Marks, if you will come with me, and Sherwin, let’s get you a fresh uniform.” Mr. Kreller strolled off almost casually, not looking back to see the two students follow him; one with stubborn confidence and one with shame.

“I suppose I will call for Jameson.” Ms. Glazmire sniffed, stalking her way into the school kitchen.

The three remaining boys shared a few expressions ranging from frustration to confusion. Ozzy looked back at the Fān twins; Dave had turned in his seat, facing the rest of his teammates, while Eric stared after the others leaving the cafeteria with a decent face of worry. The catcher pivoted on his heel, tapping his knuckles to Jonathan’s shoulder before walking back to their table with Sean.

“Jonny.” 

He looked back instinctively at the awful nickname, regretting it quickly. Jonathan saw Penelope batting her eyes at him innocently with a softer smile.

_ Did she honestly think anyone was fooled,  _ he wondered,  _ or does she just think I’m dumb? _

Jonathan’s mouth thinned into a line, another disappointed expression. “I’m guessing you still haven’t apologized then, Penelope?” He inquired not expecting an answer then following his friends, leaving her to the interrogation of her own “friends.”

Ozzy smirked at him as the three of them sat back down. “That was awfully mean of you, Mr. Nice Guy.” He commented quietly, an entertained grin growing on his face. Sean nodded his own agreement, finally stuffing a spoonful of the chili in his mouth.

The captain just shrugged as if he didn’t know what the other meant. “I was just asking a question.”

“Yea, right.” Ozzy scoffed, rubbing his eye again a bit more irritatedly. “Dammit, Sean help me with my eye drops?”

“Just wear glasses Oz.”

“No.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It may have not been the first time for Sherwin to get a replacement uniform from the office but everytime made him feel embarrassed and bothersome despite the counselor’s opposition. Not to mention the fee his parents have to pay for the uniforms and explaining why to them. Why, oh why, didn’t he pack a spare sweater?

And how was Liane so confident in reporting a couple of bullies when nothing was done for him? It must be a benefit of being a top student. Teachers will actually listen.

Sherwin sighed moodily at the thought, folding the dirty sweater so that the chili stain wasn’t facing outward before exiting the changing room. He could hear Liane as she spoke with the middle school counselor outside the room he quietly calls the “school wardrobe.”

Day two of playing ‘friends’ with the Top Four and he ends up receiving dime-a-dozen insults from the Fān daughter then tripped by one of the Fān twins. Sure he’d get a little not-so nice attention after yesterday’s incident but that is simply ridiculous - minus the twins, that was a regular occurance if Sherwin wasn’t paying attention.

He quietly stepped out and into the main office. 

Mr. Kreller stood at Liane’s side with his arms crossed as she passed her phone to their counselor, Miss Hamins. The sweet woman Sherwin talked to on a fairly regular basis appeared to be in her mid-thirties with a basic strawberry blonde bob cut wearing a pastel blue pantsuit examined the screen carefully as Liane kept talking, probably explaining more than she should about Sherwin’s harassment. The ginger walked toward their small gathering, his footsteps almost silent on the retro designed carpet tiles.

“Ah, Sherwin.” Mr. Kreller commented, noting his student’s arrival. “Miss Marks was just showing us the photo collection she happened to take during your lunch.” The man’s face fell from his usual cheerful expression to concern. “Are you sure you are alright?”

The teen forced himself to smile more positively than he felt. He could not begin to describe the embarrassment and anxiety that this situation had created and the outcomes it could produce. “I’m fine, sir. My sweater took most of the damage.” He answered confidently, avoiding Liane’s assessing stare.

Miss Hamins gave a hum then a sigh, an unhappy face as she returned the phone. “I wish I could say that your pictures could cause Dave and Eric some form of punishment for their troubles.” She held her hand up to silence the girl before continuing, “the angle just didn’t quite catch them in the act. However,” the counselor brought her extended hand to her chin. “You said that your other friends were there when Penelope Fān was speaking unkindly to Sherwin?”

“Unkindly is a nice way to put it,” Liane grumbled, white-knuckling her grip on the device in her hand. “But yes. Ozzy, Sean, and Jon were there.”

“None of them actually heard anything though.” Sherwin piped up quickly, his smile disappearing in an instant. “They were just coming through the gate, Penelope and I were closer to the steps.”

“Is that so?” Miss Hamins asked thoughtfully, rubbing the pad of her thumb across her lower lip. “I would still like to speak with them. Until then,” she strolled behind the large counter near the office door and took some slips of paper from a drawer on her side. Scribbling across each slip with a flourish before passing them to both students. “You two should get to your classes. Mr. Kreller and I will take care of the rest.”

The two teens murmured their thank yous and made their exit. Silence fell over them in the empty halls heavily lacking in relief or comfort. Sherwin clutching his dirty sweater close, not wanting to put it in his bag but also not wanting to go to his locker in case Liane decides to corner him there.

_ When will this day end,  _ he wondered to himself tiredly.

“Let’s go to your locker.” Liane said in more of a declaration rather than a suggested as she stormed in that direction, not even trying to hide her irritation this time.

“What?” He asked dumbly, blinking at her back.

“Your locker.” She replied over her shoulder. “Unless you want to carry that gross sweater around all day.” Disgust clear in her voice that he could just imagine her expression to match. “Besides, I don’t want to go to class just yet.”

Sherwin watched her continue walking away from the office door not once looking back to see if he had followed. He wondered if she was that used to telling people what to do and not having any objection. Yet, the redhead found himself following her, jogging to catch up.

The rest of the walk was silent with Liane fuming and Sherwin watching out for any teacher to shoo them the other direction. He opened his locker, fitting his sweater on to the single shelf.

The girl watched him with pursed lips, a feeling of pity in her gut.

Was that the reason Jon decided Sherwin could join them? Out of pity? No, that didn’t quite sound like Jon’s style. Ugh, why couldn't he have just let the problem die on it's own yesterday? It would cause a lot less confusion. And, no joke, poor Sherwin. With the possibility that his affections might not be returned, the thought could cause physical pain.

"Can I say something potentially hurtful but, like, not to be hurtful or anything?" She asked awkwardly, tracing the edges of her phone with her index finger.

Sherwin eyed her curiously, wondering if she even understood what she said or if he had heard her right. "You- you can try, I guess?" He shrugged as he shut his locker.

The girl sighed, a small flash of irritation gone as quick as it came, she crossed her arms. "I just thought you should know," she began, her eyes darting down the hall. "I've known Jon for years, he's basically family, but I've never seen him show the slightest hint of a crush on anyone before. So, just- just don't get your hopes too high, okay?" She refused to look at him, into his pretty boy bambi eyes, as he remained silent. She said her piece, she didn't leave him to live with pointless hope, and she wasn't going to deal with the aftermath.

Sherwin bit the inside of his cheek. He tried not to think about the unfavorable outcome that could still happen, but, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about even worse scenarios since yesterday. He honestly preferred the rejection scenarios before yesterday's incident.

No, no, Jon was the one who offered the friendship stand-in, as shaky as that agreement was, it was straightforward enough to assure that acception or rejection wouldn't be unreasonably different. Right?

“Yea, I know.” He said finally, shoulders rising and dropping as he heaved a great sigh, his lips thinning out in a sad smile, eyes falling to the latch of his locker. “But at least I get the chance to actually know him instead of just watching from a distance.” Sherwin didn’t know why she felt the need to tell him that detail as if it wasn’t well known Jon never dated anyone despite the number of his admirers, nor why he admitted such a sad acceptance. 

Can this entire ordeal get anymore embarrassing?

“Geez, how aren’t you your own type of popular?” He heard her spit sounding annoyed. Raising his gaze, amber eyes meeting deep brown, blinking in confusion.

“Huh?”

Instead of being given an answer the ginger boy was grabbed by the lapels of his button-up and yanked down to her height. “Probably the lack of confidence,” Liane answered herself as she raked a comb through his curls. “Or some form of intimidation.” She ignored his pained whimpers, combing out every lock until his hair was light and fluffy. “Just above the line of being teacher’s favorite,” she continued mostly to herself as she stashed the comb back into her bag, replacing it with a dark pencil. Sherwin tried pulling back as the girl aimed the dull point at his eye, her grip on his lapel being the only thing keeping him in place.

How was she so strong?!

“Stay still and you won’t get eyeliner in your eye.” She warned, yanking him close. “As I was saying,” the soft black lead carefully, delicately, tracing the boy’s lower lid. “You are pretty, and I have others that agree with me.” Sherwin forced back the reflex to blink as she switched to his other eye, a blush rising beneath his skin. “It’s just confusing to me. Those details together yet you obviously let yourself get used as a doormat.” She capped the pencil, stashing it in her bag as well. “I don’t have any gloss on me, so, we’ll just leave that for now.” Her grip on his shirt disappeared letting the poor boy sigh in relief.

He fixed the neck of his clean sweater so it covered the top button of his button-up. “I’m pretty?” He questioned unconvinced. “I can accept being called a doormat, I’ve been pushed down to that, but, pretty? Really?”

Liane raised her brow at him, her arms again crossing over her chest. “Would you prefer cute?”

“No, honestly.”

“Would the following students please report to Miss Hamins office,” the two lingering students jumped as a feminine voice echoed through the empty halls from speakers. “Penelope Fān, Sean Smith, Ozzy Warwhipps, and Jonathan Corazul.” There was a soft buzz then a click when the announcement was done.

“Well then,” Liane clicked her tongue, staring up at the nearest speaker. “Shall we go to class?” Her eyes flicked to the redhead.

Sherwin nodded a bit relieved to end their conversation. Pretty? Cute? Nonsense. Weak and pathetic? Yea, probably.

“Where are you off to?” He asked, starting off their walk down the halls.

She trekked along beside him, her hand digging into the pocket of her skirt. “World History, you?”

“Home Ec.”

“This school has that class?” The girl’s face twisted into bewilderment. “Didn’t Home Ec. die out ages ago?”

Sherwin shrugged. “I guess some of the wealthier families that help fund the school decided to keep the program so their kids don’t forget how to do small tasks themselves, like sewing a tear in a shirt or how to make handmade chocolate.” He gave a small giggle. “Besides the major girl to boy ratio in class, it is really fun.”

“And see, that right there is what I mean.” She pointed a finger at him, phone in hand again. “That tiny smile and giggle, that is what makes you cute.” Her tumb tapped on the screen of her phone then raising it and turning so the selfie camera included Sherwin. "Now smile again."

He complied immediately and the screen flashed white for a brief moment, the picture taken showed before it dropped to the bottom right corner of the screen. Liane lowered her phone, thumbs tapping away on the device.

Sounds of extra shoes tapping on the polished tiles grew ahead of them. Ozzy and Jon rounded the corner into the main hall.

"Aren't you two supposed to be in class by now?" Ozzy teased when he spotted the pair.

"Shouldn't you be harassing the volleyball girls by now?" Liane shot back.

The catcher raised his hands in defense, his captain snickering beside him. "I don't always waste my free hour checking out the volleyball team. I also help with the cheerleader practices." He smirked.

Liane rolled her eyes at him but the corner of her mouth quirked upward, her eyes dropping back to her phone.

“Oh, Win,” Ozzy snapped his fingers as each pair passed the other, pausing in his step and turning on his heels.

The ginger turned as he was addressed, surprising himself of how quickly he was adapting to his new nickname.

“Could we meet up after school?” The latino asked closing the few steps between them. “To study.  _ Monsieur _ Flannigen dropped a surprise review plan for Friday and you know that I’m barely keeping my head above water with him.” He exaggerated ‘monsieur’ with a spiteful expression.

“What about your practice? Isn’t the next game on Friday too?” Sherwin asked, his brows knitting together in concern.

Ozzy waved his hand nonchalantly. “Already settled it with Jon.” He answered before taking Sherwin’s hands into his own begging. “I’m in desperate need, Win, please help me.”

“Yea, sure,” Sherwin nodded, prying his hands out of the other’s. “Meet at the usual place?”

Ozzy let go easily enough, stuffing his hands into his pockets, his head rolling atop his left shoulder. “I gotta pick up my sister from her school, so, if you don’t mind, could we study at my place? You’ll most likely get a free meal out of it.”

“I don’t mind, but you don’t have to worry about dinner.”

The catcher’s head flew back with a laugh, a dark smile on his lips as his head rose back into place. “You won’t get a choice, trust me.”

“Stop scaring him and hurry up, Oz.” Jonathan called from further down the hall.

Ozzy’s grin lightened in an instant, giving the startled ginger a wink then running after his captain. Said captain sending Sherwin a friendly wave as the other caught up.

Sherwin waved back shyly before turning to follow Liane. “Should I be worried?” He asked her. Having never visited Ozzy’s house before he didn’t know what to expect. He knew about the other members residing in it but that’s mainly from a perspective.

“Oh no,” Liane assured, looking up from her phone. “Well, his aunt Brandi is a bitch and his cousin Nicholas is a twat. But the rest of them are great, no family more welcoming or hospitable.”

“Do they live together?” He tried imagining the number of people in Ozzy’s family living in one building in one of the nearby condos or townhouses.

“Yea, it’s a big place though. Kind of like Sean’s manor but, like, in the city.” She explained seeming confused herself. “I guess it got expanded when his Paps and Nan were expecting kids, they have hands deep in the music industry, so his great grandparents added a couple floors and a few extra halls.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finally figured out how to Italicize and such her words for this site! This one!!  
Yea, I'm fairly new here still so whatever.
> 
> I honestly enjoyed writing this part with Sherwin and Liane. Just seems like an oddly wonderful friendship in the making and I can't wait to write more on it.  
Next I'm thinking of going into detail of the relationship between Jonny-boi and Sean or maybe actually start acknowledging the blooming friendship between Sherwin and Ozzy - and Ozzy's spoiled little sister. Or maybe both, who knows?


	7. A Case of the Giggles

“So you both agree on this lineup?” Coach Brennan asked as his tired eyes scanned over the list of names attached to the clipboard. The poor man shouldn’t have come back to work so soon, but the assistant coach is unreliable and canceled last minute.

The man just had a son thirteen hours ago and judging by the shadows and sudden stress lines around his eyes, he did not leave his wife’s side for a second during labor. He should be out celebrating or, at the very least, sleeping.

“We’ve gone back and forth about a few of the guys, but, yes, this is the right lineup.” Jonathan answered, Sean nodding at his side.

“You put Ozzy as the first hitter.” The coach noted pointedly, eyeing the two boys peculiarly.

“He’s a stronger batter than you think, sir.” Sean piped up quickly. “He just prefers the usual run he gets as the catcher.”

“More often than not, Ozzy can get himself to third base.” Jonathan added, a confident grin in place. “It would be a good way to kick off the game and get the others excited.”

Coach Brennan nodded in agreement, whether he actually agreed or just from a lack of sleep neither boy knew. His coffee mug was empty long before the final bell.

“Alright then, I trust your judgments. The man said finally. “Sean, you go get warm ups started,” he set the clipboard on his desk, a more serious look in his eye. “I need to talk to Jon for a moment.”

Both boys exchanged a look, Sean appearing more concerned than Jonathan showed. They had a vague notion of what was next.

The captain nodded assuringly to Sean. Jonathan could handle it, whatever it could be.

Sean left quietly.

Once the door’s click signified it was shut and that the two remaining were alone, Jonathan focused solely on the coach, not once looking back. In the following silence, Brennan eyed his empty cup with longing.

“I have received voicemails on my office phone and on my personal phone from one of your teammates’ parents claiming you abused your authority as captain.” The man stifled a yawn with his fist as he spoke. Poor guy. “In review of no prior complaints, I figured I should get your side before taking any action.”

Even though his exhaustion was obvious, Jonathan could still see the doubt in the complaints Coach Brennan had gotten, the trust he worked hard to earn.

“Unsportsmanlike conduct.” Jonathan answered simply as if that explained his actions.

A thick brow rose over the man’s eye “Offending an external party is unsportsmanlike conduct?” He questioned. So Coach was aware of Lucas’ actions.

“Wasting twenty minutes of valuable practice time doing so would be. Especially with a game coming up soon.” The teen responded without missing a beat. He knew Coach Brennan just wanted a legit reason to forgo an unnecessary punishment, playing the ironfisted captain would make the perfect excuse.

“Having your friend, Liane, oversee his extra warm ups?”

“I was making sure practice went accordingly and Sean was practicing himself, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on Luca. He joined after making up the twenty minutes the rest had lost.”

Brennan nodded, stifling another yawn. “Very well,” he said after a moment. “I’ll let it slide this time with a warning.” He winked at the boy with a crooked grin. Despite how little the coach understood of the situation he knew Jonathan had his reasons.

“I know you get tense whenever a game comes up but remember to take it easy on the rest of your team.”

Jonathan nodded, a smile of his own spreading across his face. “I understand, sir.”

“Good, now, get out there and make sure they know what they’re doing.” The coach tossed a finger towards the office door. “I expect good results come game day.”

The captain mock saluted his coach, a chuckle bubbling in his throat. “Yes, sir!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You’re kidding!” Ozzy exclaimed, rolling lazily ahead of Sherwin on his skateboard, wagon trailing after him. “What sicko takes someone else’s chili stained sweater?”

Sherwin could only nervously laugh in response. It actually wasn’t the first time that his dirty sweater went missing between classes, it would always be returned clean the next day with a simple ‘sorry’ signed by  _ Effie _ . He has his suspicions but only if he had a death wish would he dare try to confirm them.

“Don’t you have a lock?” Ozzy asked, his head turning as he swerved on his board to look back at the redhead.

“Had one. Someone thought it would be funny to stuff a duffel bag full of dirty gym socks in my locker,” he explained, forcing down his gag reflex at the memory. “They were persistent enough to bring bolt cutters and broke my lock. I still haven’t told any of the teachers about it.”

“Dude,” Ozzy brought his skateboard to a stop, his left foot on the back end while his right foot remained on the raised front end. The expression he wore didn’t settle nicely with Sherwin.

Pity.

“That’s just not right.” The latino spoke bitterly, his usual playful manner gone swiftly. “Not only is that bullying, that’s destruction of school property that  _ you  _ could end up paying for.” His jaw clenched firmly shut to keep himself from causing a scene; ignoring Sherwin’s careful approach as he pulled his phone out, planting his right foot onto the sidewalk.

Sherwin watched for but a moment as Ozzy’s thumb tapped across the screen, his brow knitting together in confusion. He wasn't familiar with this side of the teen, meaning he wasn't sure how to de-escalate the situation. “W-what are you doing?” Hopefully it won’t be too difficult to redirect.

“Pulling in a couple favors.” He answered vaguely.

“Over what? An old prank?” The freckled boy scoffed, an anxious smile on his face. “I’ve been dealing with this since the fifth grade, it's no big deal.” Try to make light of the situation, that’s what past experiences have taught him. Teachers won’t help and even if they do the situation just gets worse, kids will get smarter about their behaviors and sneakier about their abuse to each other. There was nothing to be done.

Sherwin rested a hand on Ozzy’s shoulder, the fuming teen still tapping away at his phone, each tap seeming more aggressive than the last. “Really, Oz.” He said softly.

The touch was first met with a stiff reaction then relaxing into a slump, Ozzy casting a side glance to Sherwin with a sigh. He tapped his thumb on the screen one final time then slid the device into his pocket again. Picking up his skateboard and tucking it under his arm, proceeding forward.

"Sorry," he mumbled, frowning down at the sidewalk. "I just can't stand people like that. Thinking that they're at a higher station in life than they actually are and shoving others down. Treating them like they're . . . less than human."

Sherwin took his hand back, walking at his side. Something in Ozzy's voice made him sound older, sadder.

"That's a bit strange coming from someone on a pedestal himself." He commented lightly, not particularly mean but with a small bite to his words.

Ozzy chuckled, seeming to relax more. "I didn't just put myself there though, like Penny, I worked my way up." He chin tipped up, a cocky grin growing on his face.

"Oh, so you aren't riding one of the others' coattails?" Sherwin teased, a smile of his own appearing.

The other teen gave a single burst of laughter, his mood officially changed as quickly as it had before.

"Is that what people think?" He exclaimed, looking at Sherwin in amazement. "Wow, just wow. I… I know that I seem like a slacker or something just as bad but oof. Just ouch." His hand hit his chest as if he was injured, his laughter becoming infectious.

Sherwin brought his hand up to cover his mouth, quieting his giggling. 

After a moment of just mindless laughter Ozzy was quiet, an mysterious air about him. He looked over the redhead beside him, nudging him lightly.

"Be real with me," the latino said when Sherwin looked back at him. "Where do you think you stand? Where's your station?"

Sherwin's lips thinned a bit, his smile still present though, he stared thoughtfully ahead of them. "That would be a tough call from the standing I've been 'shoved' down to. But I do suppose a station to get by at least." He answered after a few minutes.

Ozzy snickered at the small teases to his own words, an easy shrug bouncing his shoulders. "Can't refute that statement. Wanna know what I think?"

"Am I supposed to care what you think?"

"Fair enough but still."

"Fine," Sherwin's eyes rolled dramatically. "What do you think ?"

A different grin appeared on Ozzy's face, a little more smug but definitely shit eating.

"I think," he began slowly, trailing on just to be annoying. "That you think I'm full of shit."

The taller teen couldn't stop the snort that escaped him, shoving Ozzy away weakly.

"Well, there is no way I can deny that." He laughed.

"Oh, you wound me." Ozzy patted his chest again, cringing as if he was hurt.

The two carried on like that, teasing and pushing each other along, Ozzy almost stumbling into traffic during his more dramatic acts. Avoiding the topics that would upset either one.

Whenever they studied together it was something similar to this, Ozzy being distracted and distracting while Sherwin tried to not encourage him. Whether it's his phone going off from a friend or a relative, to deliberately avoiding school work by flirting with Sherwin in spanish or what broken french the teen could speak, which usually got him punished by Sherwin only speaking in french for the rest of their study time. But Ozzy was sincerely appreciative of Sherwin helping him, even if he wondered how the ginger put up with his antics for so long when hardly anyone else could.

And the times where he would cheer Sherwin up whenever the other seemed down about something, a thing Ozzy seemed to have a knack for knowing or Sherwin was just too easy to read, the two seemed to fall into an easy comfort of each other.

"So what's your family like?" Sherwin asked as the pair rounded the corner of a brightly painted wall to the primary school Ozzy had said his sister attended. "I almost feel worried with what you said earlier."

"That is a loaded question." Ozzy answered, teetering as he walked along the edge of the sidewalk. "But if I had to describe them in one word. Clusterfuck."

"Ozzy." Sherwin gave him a warning look as a family with a couple little kids walked by them, casting offended glares at the two teenagers.

Reluctantly, Ozzy stepped fully on to the sidewalk, pouting in annoyance. It was obvious cursing was second nature to his vocabulary.

"But yea, that's how I would describe them." He added in a low tone, looking into the iron fencing that the stone brick wall gave way to. Tons of squealing children running around chasing each other around the playground as parents called names from the front of the building going well unnoticed.

"If we're lucky, we can avoid Brandi and Nicholas." He added, not looking away from the chaotic mass of children and adults.

"Yea, they don't seem to be well-liked." Sherwin commented looking around at the chaos, hoping to catch one with a familial resemblance to his classmate. "Why is that exactly?"

Ozzy heaved a heavy sigh, trudging through the open gate. Apparently that is another loaded question.

"Well, my aunt Brandi is a gold digging -" he gave a loud cough "- and Nicholas is a pansy -" another cough "- momma's boy that likes to start fights with me. Here- Just hang out here while I go find Isabel." Ozzy handed Sherwin the handle of the wagon before squeezing his way into the thrall of adults half trying to get their children ready to go and half talking into their phones or to another parent.

He watched the gathering feeling a little out of place and eternally grateful of being an only child, at least in this moment. Waving awkwardly at a few of the kids that stared at him longer than a few seconds.

Thankfully it wasn't too long before Ozzy reappeared with a girl on his back that, surprisingly, didn't look similar to him.

Giggling and bouncing as the teen jumped over carelessly placed backpacks and jackets was a pale olive skinned young girl about six or seven years old with two French-braids of strawberry blond hair.

Sherwin chuckled softly as he watched Ozzy gallop beyond the mess of people and their belongings, rocking and turning to the direction of the girl clinging to his back. Giving the boy an odd look when they rode towards the wagon, Ozzy weighed as slowed to a stop, chest heaving from the exercise. 

"And now  _ mi princesa _ ," he spoke between pants as he knelt down to let her off. "Off to your grand palace where Nan and Paps can spoil you some more."

She didn't release her hold on his shoulders or loosen her legs around his waist, familiar deep brown eyes stared shyly at Sherwin from behind Ozzy's head. She quickly buried her face into her brother’s neck.

_ “Que pasa, hermanita?” _ The teen shifted his head as far as he could to look at her.  _ “No quieres ver a Nan y Paps?” _ He shifted his head again, trying to hear the young girl over the squabbling of adults and children.

Sherwin observed curiously and nervously as the two exchanged words he couldn’t understand and barely could hear, shifting his body weight from one foot to the other, one hand wrapped around his wrist.

There seemed to be less children on the school’s playground as more and more reluctantly left with their families, he noted as a distraction. When he looked back toward the siblings, Isabel had left her brother’s back to stand on her own, Sherwin noticed she had her own smattering of dark freckles across her features as she stared back at him with an almost offended expression, Ozzy standing back upright and stretching out his limbs.

“Aye, you’re getting heavy, kid.” The latino teased. “Do you have everything to leave?”

Isabel looked up at her brother with a softer expression giving a firm nod before frowning again at Sherwin. Ozzy quickly caught on.

_ “No seas grosera, Isa.” _ The teen scolded, crossing his arms. 

The girl pouted for a moment at his tone, her hands gripping the hems of her coat sleeves. Then, she met the ginger’s eyes with a more determined look. 

“I don’t care how close you are to my brother, he is mine!” She declared aiming a thin finger at him. “Got it? He’s mine!”

Both boys flushed in an instant, some of the lingering adults looking over at them, Ozzy quickly being overcome with laughter while Sherwin stared at the other teen mortified. Just what kind of child is Ozzy related to?!

“What did you tell her!?!” The redhead demanded, looking back and forth between the wheezing teenager and the irate child.

“I-Isa, ha,” Ozzy was on his knees, clutching his stomach as his body spasmed in his attempts to breathe.  _ “E-El, aha haha, El es solo un amigo, ha, no mi novio.” _ He raised his head, gulping down as much air as his still spasming body would allow. 

“So?” Isabel questioned, sending her brother into another fit, this time flat on the ground.

“Is he okay?” Sherwin heard one parent whisper behind them, feeling the redness in his face somehow deepen more.

When Ozzy finally calmed down enough to sit up, he rubbed tears from his eyes muttering a small string of curses, his body still seizing with barely contained laughter. He first looked up to his sister, the biggest grin on his face Sherwin had ever seen on anyone leaving him to wonder just how easy it is to make the latino laugh.

“You are going to kill me one day doing that.” Ozzy sighed, reaching up and tugging one of her braids affectionately.

Now it was her turn to turn red and a brilliant shade it was, her eyes sparkling as if her parents had surprised her with a puppy. Sherwin would say she was adorable if he hadn’t received a ‘fuck off’ from her just moments ago. Kids.

Ozzy got himself to his feet, dusting off his slacks and sleeves. “Anyway, then, are you ready to go home?” He asked, stepping towards Sherwin and the wagon. “If we hurry now, we can convince Nan for some specialty nachos before Ma and Dad get home~” He took the handle of the wagon back from the ginger, casting a smirk back at her from over his shoulder.

Isabel jumped excitedly, hurrying toward the wagon and settling into the bed of it, carefully resting Ozzy’s skateboard and school bag over her lap.

Ozzy chuckled at her, sending a wink to Sherwin. “Shall we?”

The red-faced teen sighed exasperatedly. “Yea, let’s go.” He walked ahead of the other but not too far, somehow knowing that Ozzy was grinning at his back the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much between Jon and Sean, gunna have to work on that next time. But good god with Ozzy and Sherwin and Isabel. I'm convinced Ozzy's entire body is one solid funny bone.


	8. The One, or Two, With a Grudge

A little over an hour and Ozzy had managed before losing focus. Again. Twiddling his pencil between his fingers. He knew Sherwin knew it, he always seemed to, kept patient about it too. It almost scared Ozzy, it was like Sherwin was silently daring him to ask a question.

Sherwin was going through the workbook Monsieur Flannigen assigned to French I, every time he took his red pen and scratched something out or added something in brought an amused grin to Ozzy’s face. He was, so, getting called out when he handed it in tomorrow.

“Hey, Win,” Ozzy lifted his head from his hand, quickly rubbing at his eye. “Coo-mon det voo. . .”

“_Comment dites-vous _.” Sherwin corrected gently, sounding out each word slowly, without looking up from the book.

Ozzy blinked, his left eye squinted irritably. “Right. _ Comment dites-vous _ , um,” he tapped his finger on the desktop, trying to remember the word. “Ah! _ Comment dites-vous _ ‘fuck me’ _ en français? _”

The ginger raised his head to give the other an odd look but shook his head. “_ Baise moi. _”

“Bez moi?” Ozzy tried, echoing it again more softly, a grin quickly spreading across his face as he leaned back in his chair. “_ Baise moi!” _

Yea, not the most mature he’s been but he’s done worse. Besides, who doesn’t enjoy learning curses in a different language? Now if only his contacts would be less of a nuisance. He thought bitterly, rubbing his eye again.

_"Je ne vois pas comment Monsieur Flannigen approva la male diction en clase.” _ Sherwin commented as he turned to the next page in the workbook.

“_Que? _” Ozzy’s head tipped sideways, his eyes squinting more.

Sherwin snorted, his head shaking as he closed the book, marking his place with the pen. “Maybe we should go over some conversational phrases.” He suggested. “It is one of the better methods to learn a new language.”

“I’ve long since began regretting the idea of learning a third language.” Ozzy grumbled, combing his hair out of his face. He flipped through his textbook with a heavy sigh. “Alright, let’s try this.” He pushed the book between the two of them, Sherwin the scooting forward so he could see.

He cleared his throat before reading off the page, “_ Bonjour monsieur, pourriez-vous m’aider?” _Reading slowly and carefully, watching Sherwin’s reaction.

Sherwin nodded his approval, looking over the next line. “_ Oui, que puis-je faire. _” He responded encouragingly.

“Je. . .” Ozzy started rubbing his eye again, more aggressively than before. “Je cherch - agh, dammit.” He gave a violent twist of his palm into his eye socket.

“Are you okay?” Sherwin asked with concern, reaching up to grab the limb.

The other teen suddenly stood up instead of answering, startling the ginger, then headed to the door. “‘M fine.” He mumbled, stumbling into the doorframe followed by a string of curses. “I jus’ need to take out my contacts.”

“Contacts?” Ozzy heard Sherwin repeat from the hall.

“Great.” He hissed to himself, sliding against the wall as he walked to the bathroom. “This should be fun to explain.” _ Maybe just a couple more drops of the solution would help _, he thought as he practically fell through the bathroom door.

“Stupid depth perception.” He growled as he hit his hip against the counter. Flicking the light switch on, he only had to glance into the mirror before immediately shutting the door, locking it as well. “Dammit! Stupid color contacts!”

Normally careless and playful brown irises were surrounded by an angry, irritated red hue. There was no way more solution was going to help. _ Why couldn’t I just have brown eyes like dad? _ Ozzy sighed helplessly. “Stupid genetics.” He turned on the water faucet and grabbed the soap, scrubbing his hands clean, thorough and practiced likes he’s been doing since he first got the damn things.

Adding some drops to help clear the redness after he got the lenses out, he looked in the mirror again, glaring at his reflection this time. Green eyes glared back still surrounded by red irritation.

“Fuck.” The teen growled at himself, hanging his head. “What am I going to do now?”

He can’t wear the contacts anymore today, not without eventual consequence, but no one can know his real eye color. Sure, Sherwin was nice, borderline trustworthy, but there are just some things too sensitive to talk about.

“Okay, okay, chill out,” Ozzy murmured to himself, taking a deep breath, opening and closing drawers around the sink counter, “find a comb, just find the damn comb.” He shuffled around until he found the cheap piece of plastic. With it, Ozzy drew his fringe forward over his eyes, a wall thin enough so he could see, yet, thick enough so no one could see him. A poor tactic, there will definitely be questions, but, it will have to do.

Looking himself over a final time, he took another deep breath, it didn’t help him feel relaxed and it definitely didn’t help him gain any courage to leave the bathroom.

“I look like an idiot,” he said to the mirror, “so let’s die like men.” With that, he unlocked the door and opened it, stepping out into the hall.

The second floor was quiet, sounds of pots clanging and the smell of dinner drifted up from the lower kitchen, Nan was quietly singing. Paps must’ve been busy in his study, the man somehow never rests. Brandi probably forgot to pick up Nicolas from school again, judging by how little whining there was from the other side of the house.

Somehow the quiet was ominous as Ozzy walked the way back to his bedroom. There was no noise from Isabel’s room when he passed, the door was partially open to reveal that it was empty of the six year old. When you have a sibling, that is pretty suspicious.

Out of habit he eyed the many pictures on the wall between her room and his. Many of them were from after she was born, the smaller portion before her involved beach pictures, a birthday, father’s day, and their parents’ wedding. One picture, closer to his room, was older than the rest, crinkled and ripped in some places, you could see the creases where it was folded into fourths and stayed that way for a long time. It was Ozzy's fourth birthday, he was dirty, a bruise on his left cheek and a bandage over his right eye. There was a badly made cupcake in front of him, not a drop of frosting on top, the candle was left unlit. Next to him was a sickly thin-looking woman, the burst of light from the camera made her look even more gaunt, the shadows under her eyes combined with dark makeup even darker, the smoke from the thin stick between her fingers surrounded her frayed hair making it look like it was singed. She wasn’t even smiling, she eyed the camera in annoyance, it wasn’t fake either. Neither child and woman looked related, the only similarity was their eyes, green. Green with an envy of what their worlds weren’t. Hers with the man she desperately wanted. His for . . .

Ozzy shook himself out of the bad mood he was falling into. He took the picture and flipped it over, someone would turn it back later, he wished to just burn it but left it there. Smoothing his fringe over his eyes as he stopped just outside his door, he didn’t hear the soft hushing of someone inside his room.

He turned in the doorway in time to see Isabel launch into the air at him, her long hair free from their braids and resuming their natural position covering most of her face, a high pitched squeal of laughter as her arms reached out for him.

Time slowed automatically in this moment, Ozzy had a choice to make. Either duck to keep his face covered, letting her hit the worn carpeted floor and risk being the worst brother of the month or do as he’s promised since the girl was born and catch Isabel, saving her from hurting herself, again.

It wasn’t much of a decision rather than instinct, his arms went up to catch her, taking the impact to the ground, his head narrowly missing the decorative side table across the hall.

Isabel giggled into his chest as the mild dose of adrenaline made its way through Ozzy’s system, laying his head back on the carpet. This kid was going to give him a heart attack before he reached his twenties, he loved her anyway.

“Are you okay Ozzy?” He heard Sherwin’s voice, the soft scrap of socks on carpet signalled his approach.

“Yea,” the fallen teen huffed, “just had the wind knock out of me.”

He heard both the ginger and his sister giggle in response. Isabel sat up on his stomach, he looked up at her with a grin on his face. With her hair free from the imprisonment of Nan’s skilled braiding, the strawberry locks hung in a thick curtain almost always hiding a portion of her face, soft and smooth like silk. Ozzy was going to have to become more protective when she got older.

Suddenly, she gasped, a bright smile crossing her face. “Pretty eyes.” she whispered, her small fingers tracing his cheek.

Sherwin came into view behind the girl causing Ozzy to freeze up, momentarily forgetting the absence of his contacts. This would probably be the one time he hated that Sherwin actually looked people in the eye when he talked to them, sure it would be considered polite in most circumstances, but the way he does it just shows that he was listening, that he was paying attention, that he _ saw _ the person he was talking to. But then again, maybe Ozzy just read too deep into his tutor’s habits.

“Sorry,” Sherwin spoke up again. “I would have warned you but she wanted to surprise you.” He stepped closer, laughing quietly. Ozzy quickly pushed himself upward, ducking his head.

“It’s okay, she does that a lot.” Ozzy replied with a weak chuckle. “Little Isa just loves her big brother’s attention.” He bumped foreheads with his sister affectionately. His fingers wiggled against her ribs, drawing out delighted squeals from the little girl, causing her to squirm in his grip. The teen gave a throaty chuckle at her reaction.

Sherwin couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him as he watched the pair of siblings. Ozzy was such a good brother, he could tell, even in the little time he’s seen them together.

“I hate to break up playtime,” he began, laughter still bubbling in his throat, “but ‘big brother’ has to get back to studying.”

“Noooo,” Isabel whined, instantly clinging to her brother’s shirt. “It’s almost storytime.” She pouted at Sherwin over her shoulder, giving him her best puppy eyes. She stiffened though when Ozzy lifted her up with little effort off of his lap and set her on the floor beside him.

“Sherwin’s right _ princesa, _” Ozzy gave her an apologetic smile. “I have a big review coming up, I promise a good story at bedtime.” He ruffled her hair. “After this review, we’ll go back to the regular routine okay?”

Her pout didn’t disappear but she didn’t object, she watched as her brother pushed himself to his feet, his smile still on her filled with promise. “It better be a good one, Ozzy.” She warned.

“When have I ever given you a bad story Isa?” He snickered down at her. She flashed him a giddy grin before hopping to her feet and skipping off down the hall.

When he finally turned to Sherwin, Ozzy kept his head low and his eyes even lower, faking a strained smile. “Let’s hope my head isn’t too fried by bedtime to think up a good story.” He joked in a huff, walking by him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Alright, good job guys, I’ll see all who show up tomorrow morning.” Jonathan called, waving to his teammates. “Six thirty sharp - I’m looking at you Dawson.” He grinned humorously as his teammate waved him off.

He joined up with Liane and Sean outside the school gates, saying a polite goodbye to Mr. Jameson, the school custodian, as he locked the gates. Liane, per usual, had her phone in hand and was showing Sean something on the device, whatever it was, it had both of them smirking, which was uncommon for the blonde.

“What’s up?” Jonathan asked, setting his duffel bag on the ground beside Sean’s.

“Just something Miranda sent me.” Liane answered, pulling her phone back suspiciously quick. “Though she keeps bringing up something about a new idea but she doesn’t have it completely fleshed out yet that she wants an opinion about.” Her lips pursed together as she squinted at her phone.

“What had Sean smirking though?” The captain asked nodding at his teammate.

“Oh, just a meaningless joke and photo…” She replied in a suspicious drawl, scrolling her thumb down the screen.

Sean rolled his eyes before snatching the phone from over her shoulder, instantly dodging away from a slap. He skipped over the two duffel bags to Jonathan’s side, scrolling through her older messages, leaning close against the shorter boy.

{Pink Weekly} Were you planning to tell me about slacker’s thing for pretty boy?

{Pink Weekly} I thought I knew u

{Ace Talent} ???

{Pink Weekly} image.jpeg

Under the exchanged messages was a picture from earlier that afternoon of Ozzy clasping Sherwin’s hands. It was when Ozzy was ‘begging’ for an emergency study session after they got called to Miss Hamins’ office. Miranda saw that?

{Ace Talent} omg he was just asking for help in french

{Ace Talent} conclusion jump much?

{Pink Weekly} Always.

{Pink Weekly} Great week started with Sherwithan

{Pink Weekly} I’ll stay for Shozzy

“Give that back!” Liane swiped her phone back, punching Sean’s shoulder afterward. “Jerk.” She added when the taller teen only snickered. They knew Sean was the only one who could get away with taking her phone unscathed.

Jonathan cocked his head sideways. “What did that even mean?” He asked as he thought it. “Sherwithan? Shozzy?”

“Oh my god.” Sean outright laughed, bringing his hands to his face, his head shaking.

Liane glared at the two boys as she stashed her phone away safely in her bag. “It’s a mash up of yours and Ozzy’s names with Sherwin’s.” She explained. “Sherwin and Jonathan would make Sherwithan. Shozzy should have been a dead give away.” 

“Is this a normal thing you and Miranda do?” Jonathan asked, his eyes narrowing with speculation. He wasn’t sure how much he liked this whole thing. Wasn’t name mash ups a thing couples do? It was all just weird. Why is it even a thing? Are people assuming that he and Sherwin are a couple? Or that Ozzy and Sherwin are?

“Mostly Miranda,” Liane answered with a sigh. “The hopelessness of a shipper.”

Jonathan just squinted at her before shaking his head. “You know what? I’m not even going to ask.”

“It’s best not to.” Sean assured, sounding as if he made the mistaking of asking at one point.

“That’s fine because explaining _ that _is more Miranda’s thing anyway.” Liane agreed, crossing her arms.

The familiar blue bmw of Sean’s grandparents pulled up beside the sidewalk. Sean opened the front passenger door when the vehicle came to a full stop, his grandfather was picky about that sort of thing, while Jonathan opened the back passenger and let Liane in first.

Fortunately, it was his nana driving today.

“Hi, Nana Smith.” The two in the back greeted in unison as they settled in, quickly strapping seatbelts over their laps.

“Well, hello Jonathan, and hello Liane.” She returned the greeting warmly to each teen through the rearview mirror. “And of course hello Sean-dear.” She giggled, gently pinching his cheek between her thumb and index finger. “How was school?”

“Hello Nana.” The blonde greeted her. “It was fine, nothing new.” He added in a dull tone. Liane and Jonathan exchanged a few looks in the backseat, a silent conversation between them as the car was geared into motion.

“So getting called to Miss Hamins’ office is a regular thing for you Sean?” Liane asked, feigning innocent curiosity. She smirked when he turned to glare at her.

“Hamins?” Nana Smith questioned with alarm. “She’s your counselor, yes? Did you get into some kind of trouble, dear?” Her eyes flickered between the road and her grandson in concern.

“No, Nana, I didn’t.” He assured softly and quickly when he turned back around in his seat. “It was another student, a classmate. Jon and Ozzy were called in too.”

“Well what happened?” She demanded, her usually sweet voice almost sounding stern. “And where is Ozzy, didn’t he pick up Isabel already?”

“He skipped practice to study for an important review coming up.” Jonathan answered. “And Miss Hamins’ was just asking us about a couple bullying incidents today.”

The three teenagers heard the elderly woman mutter something along the lines of “poor dear” as she pulled to a stop at a traffic light. They stayed quiet as she proceeded humming in various tones to herself.

“But none of you bullied this classmate, right?” She asked after a moment.

“No Nana.”

“Of course not.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The old woman sighed in relief. “I should have known. You kids are too good and sweet to do anything mean.” She smiled at each of them, urging the car onward again when the light turned green. “Did any of you know this classmate? I know your class is quite large.”

“Actually, Nana Smith,” Liane spoke up, scooting forward in her seat. “We have been hanging around with him recently. Apparently, he’s been bullied a lot at school, we were just trying to help stop it.”

“Oh, poor dear,” Nana Smith’s face fell again. “Is he alright? He wasn’t too roughed up, was he? What’s his name?”

“Sherwin.” Sean answered this time. “And no, just some chili on his uniform, a couple of the lacrosse members tripped him at lunch.”

“That’s when Mr. Kreller took Sherwin and I to Miss Hamins’ office.” Liane followed up quickly. “And the boys were called to her office.”

“But even that was to only talk about another classmate harassing him this morning.” Jonathan included, his arms crossing over his chest this time, a frown taking over usually kind features. “I was really hoping the lacrosse team would finally get one this time.”

Liane's phone chimed from her bag, resulting in her pulling it out and checking what the notification was. She ended up unlocking her phone and then her thumbs were soon enough tapping away at the screen again, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Now, Jonathan, it’s bad luck to wish misfortune on someone else.” Nana Smith lectured, one thin and boney finger lifting off the steering wheel then waggling in the air. “Even if they are jerks.”

“It’s not just that,” the teen sighed. “Micheal was on the lacrosse team too, I’m not sure if anything’s changed since he graduated but they were pretty horrible after he joined.” He directed his frown to the window, glaring out at the next car over.

“Micheal, your brother?” She inquired, her expression turning more grim. “I’m not going to disagree with the fact that he was a bad egg, but everyone has the ability to change. Perhaps the time away from home has helped him correct himself.”

Jonathan exhaled heavily through his nose, biting his tongue to keep him from saying anything more than what really bothered him. “It’s just how he got away with it all, like, he was always in the right when he did it. His teammates too.” He tensed up when a hand touched him, looking over to see Liane giving him a worried look.

“Well, anyone as spoiled as your brother is bound to think they’ve done no wrong,” Nana Smith gave a huffed, her chest puffing up. “That aside, Sean, why haven’t you told me about Sherwin. I would have fixed him a baggie too.” She redirected the topic easily, her soft cackle almost didn’t sound forced.

The blonde shrunk in his seat, his ears flushing red. “Must have slipped from my mind, Nana.” He answered meekly. Liane snickered quietly, casting a glance at Jonathan again. 

He smiled reassuringly, burying any lingering negativity in the back of his mind as Nana Smith teasingly grumbled something like “Slipped your mind, I’m sure.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

The clatter and scraping of silverware on dishes surrounded Sherwin at the long dinner table that he was more or less demanded to have a seat at. With Ozzy on his right refilling his bowl with jambalaya in one of the four serving bowls spread across the table, and Isabel begrudgingly on his right picking at her food, selecting certain items from her dish to eat, Sherwin thought over the prior hours that lead to this moment.

It wasn’t long after Isabel left them to go over the rest of their studying that Sherwin had discovered Ozzy’s secret eye color, Ozzy’s dad, Oliver, had walked in to check on them and Sherwin happened to look up in time before Ozzy could duck his head again. Desperately being begged not to tell anyone, not even their other three friends knew about it. As for the reason why he kept it under wraps, he didn’t want to talk about. Even now, at dinner, Ozzy kept his head low, not looking at any of the other people at the table for more than a few seconds.

Sherwin spied a bit farther down the table past Ozzy where his dad sat on the teen’s right and his ‘Ma’ sat at the end next to the man. The ginger also discovered, apparently more quickly than the other three, that Ozzy and Isabel’s mom was just a very feminine man that likes feminine clothing. When he had asked, Ozzy’s Ma, Damien, replied simply and sweetly that clothes had no gender if people weren’t bitches about it. Admittedly, Damien could be called beautiful, something that his husband does every time to address him along with other charming pet names. It was as cute as any teen would find two adults flirting would be.

Ozzy’s mom looked up to notice Sherwin’s staring. “Is the food alright, Sherwin?” He asked, offering a smile. “I know not all of Ozzy’s friends like spicy foods.”

The teen stiffened as the attention was brought to him. Stirring his spoon quickly around the bowl, his head shook. “Sorry, the food is great, really.” A nervous chuckle forced from his throat. “I guess I was just lost in thought.”

“Wow, Ozzy, one of your buddies can actually think?” Another voice joined from the other end of the table. Sherwin heard soft curses go around the table as the attention shifted to Ozzy’s cousin, Nicolas, sitting toward the other end of the table between his aunt Brandi and uncle Drake. “I’m impressed.” The only remaining teen at the table had a smug grin on his face that was just asking to wear his dinner.

“Watch it, Nicky.” Ozzy warned, aiming his spoon at the other. “At least I have friends that want to hang around me and not my name.”

“Don’t call me Nicky, mongrel.” Nicolas snapped back.

“Nicolas.” Drake growled at his son but Ozzy stood from his seat.

“Ozland.” Oliver put a hand on Ozzy’s shoulder and forced him back down. “_ No dejes que te afecte. Tienes un invitado.” _

Sherwin shrunk into his chair, feeling the sudden tension surrounding the table. Was this a regular occurrence? He wondered.

“Oh just let them be, Oliver.” Brandi spoke around the lip of her wine glass, combing platinum blonde lock behind her shoulder. “Boys will be boys afterall.” The smirk she gave the man was far from innocent.

“There’s a fine difference between that statement and a boy being a brat.” Oliver replied seemingly unphased.

“Mami, Papi, can I eat in my room?” Isabel spoke up looking uncomfortable, flashing glances at the other adults around the table.

“Yes, sweetie.” Damien nodded. “Walking feet this time, don’t want to spill on the carpet again.” Oliver ruffled her hair gently as she passed, her bowl held carefully with both hands as she walked stiffly but swiftly out of the dining room. Nicolas grumbled something incoherent under his breath.

“If you got the balls to mumble an insult you might as well just say it.” Ozzy said. Sherwin noted the teen’s dad pushing his dish further onto the table, looking around the table he noticed that everyone had set down their utensils -- excluding Brandi and her glass -- and were carefully watching the two. Just how bad were Ozzy and Nicolas’ fights?

Nicolas just smiled much like his mother had, only with less suspicious intent, at Ozzy. “I wasn’t saying anything of importance. Just wondering why I’m the brat when your sister is the most spoilt of us.”

“Boys,” The elder gentleman at the head of the table seated between Nan and Twi spoke up sternly. “That is more than enough. Can’t we have one peaceful dinner? We do have a guest.” He picked up his water glass and took a drink. Much like Damien and Isabel, Ozzy’s grandfather has pale olive skin, a little lighter, possibly from less outdoor activities, his hair was turning silver but you could still see a few pinkish strands, brown eyes that almost looked red eyed over his grandsons with exhausted annoyance. “Nicolas you will apologize to your cousins and to Sherwin for your behavior before he leaves.”

“Yes, Grandpa Tom.” Nicolas answered, his eyes rolling once the man had looked away. Obviously he doesn’t plan on any sort of apology.

“Do forgive them, Sherwin,” the man turned to the redhead. “Our family tends to be a bit hotheaded. I know I certainly struggled with it in my youth.” He dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin before smiling at them.

Sherwin waved his hands in an unworried way. “Oh, no, it’s no trouble.” He assured quickly. “Quite a few of my relatives have bad tempers too.”

“But does Oz-”

“What’s your family like?” Ozzy’s grandmother asked, casting a sharp look at Nicolas. “Do you have a big family as well?”

Sherwin took a stalling drink from his glass, he wasn’t terribly good with a lot of attention and that seems to be all he’s getting from being friends with Ozzy, Jon, Liane, and Sean. Getting used to it now might be the only choice.

“Um, mostly on my mother’s side.” He answered once he set his glass down. “Lots of aunts and uncles and cousins, but I didn’t really see them often before we moved to the states. In France, in Marseille, there was my grandmother, my aunt and uncle, and my cousin Louis.”

“Wow,” Ozzy said, sounding calm again. “So you’re, like, from out of the country?”

Sherwin teetered his hand in the air. “Kind of? I mean, I was born in the country but my dad worked in France and didn’t want to miss out on me growing up so he convinced my mom to live over there for a few years.”

“Smart of him.” Oliver commented, scooping up a spoonful of his food.

“When did you move back?” Damien asked, elbowing his husband almost discreetly.

Sherwin tapped the side of his bowl, staring upward in thought. “Sometime during the summer before fifth grade, not long after the construction was finished on our house.

“Explains why you have a pool.” Ozzy muttered jealously before stuffing his spoon into his mouth. Sherwin bit his tongue from laughing at the pouting teen as the adults snickered at his behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more in depth today. Yes to those wondering, it is okay for Shozzy to be a minor thing or a major thing, it was slightly intentional. Any questions?


	9. The One That Makes Trouble

Thursday morning finally brought about a sense of calm, at least in Liane’s perspective. Melony, her caretaker of the month, dropped her off at school just as morning practices were wrapping up. Her phone kept going off matching the excitement Miranda had been texting in all caps about since three am. Does that girl know what sleep is?

She sipped from her bottle of V8 juice, making her way to her locker. Maybe the boys will meet at her locker this time without issue. Ignoring tired greetings from other early risers, she scrolled through the messages from Miranda.

**{Pink Weekly} ** OMGOMGOMGOMG 

**{Pink Weekly} ** cant wait to tell you guys!!!!

**{Pink Weekly} ** youre going to love it Liane!!

**{Ace Talent} ** Can’t u just tell me via phone?

**{Ace Talent} ** btws your grammar is terrible for someone who works for the school paper.

**{Pink Weekly} ** watevs

**{Pink Weekly} ** and NO i cannot i still need a few more signed agreements from the AV club. Lunchtime i swear

**{Ace Talent} ** Signed agreements? Are you starting a mafia?

**{Pink Weekly}** no XD thats my plan for college

**{Pink Weekly} ** but its better than that!

**{Pink Weekly} ** i know youd approve~

Liane’s eyes rolled upward, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She’ll never admit it out loud, but she loves having a friend as excitable as Miranda. Sure, there’s Ozzy, but he’s more like a pet that follows Sean around, and Jon hasn’t gotten excited about anything since he was made captain of the baseball team. 

Stopping at her locker, she tucked her phone away before twisting the knob on her lock, she opened the door, hanging her bag on one of the hooks then digging through it for certain textbooks. Checking her phone again to see the list of emojis Miranda sent her. 

“Just what does she have planned?” Liane murmured to herself.

“I know what I have planned.” A prepubescent voice purred as smooth as a frog’s croak. Liane’s eyes rolled upward again, she put her final textbook up and took her bag back.

“Hi Neil.” She greeted unenthusiastically, closing her locker to reveal the teen.

Neil Cooper, a tall, lanky eighth grader with grease slicked auburn hair, a beak of a nose, beady brown eyes with three pimples lined neatly atop his left brow beyond ready to pop, and a perverted grin spread across his face, another pimple rising on his upper lip.

“Hello gorgeous~” He gave a little head wiggle. “About that plan. You, me, and a shake with two straws at Twi’s diner. What do you think?” His brows bounced up and down, those three pimples dancing in the action.

“Could use a little math work.” Liane replied, fixing the bag strap over her shoulder. Neil’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Subtract me from that equation.” She continued with an innocent pout. “You know, like any other time you've asked me out.” Turning to walk away, Neil quickly rounded side-stepping around her, blocking her with his forearm pressed to one of the neighboring lockers.

“Oh come on Lia,” the boy cooed, “why won’t you give me a chance?” The smell of garlic washing over her senses. “I can be quite charming if you give me a chance.”

Liane took a step back, her lips pressed tight to her teeth with a forced smile. “Well, firstly,” she pressed a finger to his chest, applying pressure to force him back, “I’ve already told you plenty times not to call me Lia, something you either can’t comprehend or just simple don’t care --”

“It’s a pet name.”

“-- I don’t do pet names, I threatened significant body parts to everyone else that dared to try,” she glared up at him through her eyelashes, “secondly, I have a specific set of standards.” She took back her hand letting it rest against her bag. “Standards that you don’t fit, to your misfortune.”

“Then clearly they are too high. Could we negotiate?”

“Why should I change anything for you when something as simple as no pet names seems impossible for you to do for me?” Liane raised her chin. Neil may have half a foot on her but she could still look down on him.

The boy’s mouth opened and shut, his teeth clacking together as he thought for something to argue with.

“Incoming!”

Both teens turned to look down the hall at the warning. Neil quickly fell back as something furry leaped at him, Liane skipping to the side as the boy filled the hall with screams of fear. 

Ozzy jogged up, his hair dripping with water. He gave a sharp whistle, “Margie, here girl.”

The furry thing paused, perking up on its haunches atop Neil’s chest. It was a raccoon, bushy striped tail, bandit mask, and all. It scampered off the trembling teen and climbed up into the newcomer’s arms, curling around his shoulders. He stared down at Neil, who was scooting back.

“Sorry about that man.” Ozzy huffed, sounding winded from chasing the furry creature. “She got a bit excited. Raccoons and trash, y’know.” He chuckled, casting a glance to Liane getting a weak smile in return.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Neil scoffed, he eyed Margie as if she had rabies. “Why is that rat on school grounds?”

Ozzy slapped a hand on his chest, an offended look crossing his face. “Excuse you, Coop --”

“My name's not Coop.”

“But Margie here belongs to a dear friend of mine as an emotional support pet.” He explained, ignoring the interruption. “Also she is a raccoon, not a rat. Even a blind man could see that.” He reached a hand up to his shoulder, giving the docile creature some chin scratches. “She’s completely tame,” Ozzy added, giving Neil a toothy grin. “And perfectly trained too.” He snapped his fingers and the raccoon perked up again, beady eyes staring focused on the teen still sprawled on the floor.

Neil locked eyes with the raccoon, his gaze flicking to Ozzy, who’s hand was still in the air, who still grinned almost evilly at him. In seconds, he was on his feet and scrambling down the hallway.

Liane released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She heard Ozzy cackling at Neil’s retreating form.

“I’ll never say this again,” she spoke up after a moment to collect herself, school her expression back to her casual bitch face. “You are my hero.” She eyed the creature relaxing again on his shoulder. “And you too.” Lifting her hand to pet Margie, pausing midway, giving Ozzy a look of uncertainty.

He nodded with a kinder grin. “It’s okay, Margie loves affection.”

Liane smiled again, letting her hand graze Margie’s ear. Pausing the action to let the creature sniff at her fingertips, then pushed its head into her hand. A giggle left the girl before she could stop it then she froze when the raccoon started attempting to climb on to her.

Ozzy snickered at Liane’s sudden face of terror, taking Margie by the scruff off his shoulders then offering her to Liane with both hands carefully around the raccoon's middle. “It’s okay, dollface. She won’t hurt you.”

The blogger eyed both ‘animals’ with skepticism. After a moment, she raised her hands to the furry thing, taking Margie in her own arms. Margie hugged comfortably against Liane’s chest, nuzzling her nose in Liane’s neck. The girl relaxed as the raccoon got cozy, stroking Margie’s back in long and gentle motions.

“See?” Ozzy flashed a toothy grin. “She’s good. She likes you.”

“Where exactly did you get her?” Liane asked, quickly diverting the topic to distract herself from the sweet 'wild' animal in her arms. “And who trains a raccoon?”

“My brah, Delaney in detention does.” He answered, sounding quite proud. “She has a mated pair for every letter of the alphabet. With her parents being vets, she’s picked up a couple things.”

Liane gave a hum in consideration, resisting the urge to pull back from Margie when whiskers tickled her neck. “Okay, so why do you have her?” She questioned.

“Eh heh heh,” The taller teen rubbed at his neck. “For the sake of certain past actions dealt upon another individual, I am obligated to keep my big mouth shut on this one. But as for what I had her do will be soon acknowledged.”

The girl gave another hum but didn’t question further, continuing to pet the dozing creature as more students started entering the school. Some gave odd looks when they noticed the raccoon. It was otherwise quiet around the two -- three -- standing near the lockers.

“You know…” Ozzy drawled, breaking the quiet. “Margie finished nursing some kits if you’d like a raccoon of your own. Delaney’s looking to put them in good homes” He leaned over her sideways, somehow curving around her. Bringing his hand up to tap his fingers on his chin. “It would drive your old man nuts though, wouldn’t it?” His grin changed again, making him look like the Chesire cat.

Liane blinked at him, a sly grin taking its place on her face. “It would~ But a true supporter of several animal sanctuaries wouldn’t resist his ‘adopted’ daughter’s request to help an ‘abandoned’ baby raccoon.” She agreed. “Such cute things shouldn’t be left on their own.” Her grin faded a bit. “But they are considered exotic pets, aren’t they?” If Liane was going to torment her father with a raccoon she wasn't going to half-ass it and not learn how to take care of it.

The boy patted her shoulder assuringly. “Don’t worry. Not her first time giving up a kit.” He said. “Delaney always provides a pamphlet of basic care tips and numbers to vets in the local area, and a bag of food for a new owner. She has a website for more in depth stuff, like if you actually find an abandoned kit, or how to domesticate a wild raccoon in your own neighborhood. She even has videos.” He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and offered it to her. 

She took it, earning a huff of annoyance from Margie, reading off the slip. Glancing up at him. “How soon?”

“She’s taking them to get their shots after school today. How does tomorrow sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Oh there you are Oz.” Jonathan casually strolled up to their duo. His brows knitted together in confusion when he turned to greet Liane. “I don’t recall seeing that breed of cat, or you ever having one Liane.”

Liane rolled her eyes, tucking the slip away, then passing Margie back to Ozzy, the raccoon clinging to the girl with a surprising grip. “It’s not mine.” She replied.

“And Margie is a raccoon, not a cat.” Ozzy added, carefully unhooking Margie’s grip from Liane’s vest. “Delaney lost her yesterday. I saw her hanging around the equipment shed.”

“Is that why you left practice in a rush?” Jonathan asked, raising a hand to the creature grumpily relaxed in Ozzy’s arms. Margie’s ear and nose twitched but paid the newcomer no mind when he lightly pet her head.

Ozzy sent a knowing look to Liane. “Yea, that’s it.”

The three waited, chatting idly, for Sean and Sherwin to join their little meetup, Ozzy introducing Margie to the two before quickly departing as teachers started making their presences known around the building. The remaining four meandered their way to Sherwin’s locker, letting him put away what he didn’t need. An exclamation of disgust and anger came from someone further down the hall, something about a nasty smell and a mess that Liane was certain was what Ozzy meant.

Opening his locker, the red-haired boy discovered, with no surprise, his sweater on the top shelf of his locker and the usual note placed tactically on top. Liane and the two remaining boys noticed his pause, quickly thinking the worst, watching as Sherwin slowly reached into his locker.

“Is something wrong?” Jonathan asked, brows knitting together.

Sherwin pulled out the note, much to the others’ curiosity, flipping it open. His eyes skimmed over the page, there wasn’t any sign of shock or surprise as he read whatever it said, he seemed used to it, like, it happened often.

“Well?” Liane demanded, arms crossing over her chest. “Are you going to share or just keep us in suspense?”

“Don’t force him.” Jonathan scolded her.

“It’s just a note,” Sherwin assured, an unbothered smile spreading across his features, “nothing important.”

Liane’s left brow quirked upward, unconvinced. She reached for the note, he pulled it out of her reach.

“It’s still private, Liane.” Sherwin shoved the note into his bag. “It’s from nobody important anyway.”

A cruel laugh resounded behind the group. Dave and Eric were passing by with some members of the lacrosse team in their grade, Penelope walking between them.

“Insulting yourself already?” Dave asked, a sneer on his face. “Leave some for the rest of us.” He barked another round of laughter, encouraged by his friends. He paused when his brother nudged him.

“Makes it easier though,” Eric said, a matching sneer as his twin. “We don’t have to keep reminding him.” Another round of laughter went through the group. Penelope’s eyes rolled but she made no additional comment, keeping her focus on the phone in her hand. Sherwin narrowed his eyes unimpressed.

“Oh, you’re trying to be funny.” Liane tapped her chin as if she just figured out a complicated problem with a simple answer, sharing a look with Jonathan.

The latino grinned. “What’s funnier is your guys’ lap times around the lacrosse field. Twice the size of the baseball field and none of you have shortened your times since the beginning of the year.”

Grins dropped, replaced with glares. Penelope’s eyes widened, looking up from her phone. Sean stifled a snicker with his fist, hiding a condescending smirk behind it, Liane openly giggled. A standoff suddenly taking place in the middle of the hall, the morning’s peace longer recognized. Other students walked around their standoff, giving them as much of a girth as the hall would allow, curious and nervous looks flickering between the two groups.

“Alright, enough.” Sherwin snapped, stepping forward between Jonathan and the twins. Aiming a finger first at the twins. “You guys got your shots in, so go.”

“Don’t think you can just boss us around, pipsqueak.” Dave growled, shoving the ginger backwards into Sean and Jonathan, who caught him.

Eric grabbed his brother’s arm, a serious look on his face. “Come on, man, let’s just go.” He nudged Dave onward with more force than what seemed necessary. No one missed the slight confusion in Dave's expression. The group moved on after them. 

“Well that was weird.” Liane scowled at the retreating group. Looking down at the floor she saw a folded piece of paper resting at their feet, she leaned down and picked it up. She unfolded the page, seeing it was a note.  _ The  _ note. Sherwin must have not tucked it in his bag well enough, Liane thought, it must have fallen loose when Dave pushed him.

She shouldn’t read it. Sherwin was right, the note was private business. But, she had already opened it, so….

_ Sherwin, _

_ Sorry about your sweater. Again. I managed to get the stain out this time. _

_ -Effie _

“Whose Effie?” Liane asked, attracting attention.

Suddenly, the note was ripped from her hand, a furious looking redhead glaring at her. “What did I say?” He demanded, storming the two feet back to his locker and practically threw the paper in it then proceeded to slam the door shut. Turning on the girl again. “Private business.” He snarled before storming off down the hall, away from the stunned three.

“So he can get angry.” Sean muttered, his eyes wide, watching the boy go.

“Against my better judgement,” Jonathan spoke up, looking to Liane. “What did the note say?” Sean turned to the girl too curiously. 

“Uh…” For once Liane felt uncomfortable sharing something she learned about someone else. “I don’t know... He got really mad about it.” It was weird how the words tasted on her tongue. Normally she wouldn’t hesitate.

“You said something about Effie?” Sean reminded.

“It was the person who signed the note.” Liane shrugged. “They were apologizing about Sherwin’s sweater.” She slapped her hands over her mouth with a gasp. 

The boys exchanged confusedly shocked looks.

“Is there anyone in school with that name?” Sean asked. It did sound odd.

Jonathan’s head shook. “I don’t recognize it. Could be just an alias though, they might not want to be known.” He chanced a look in the direction Sherwin took off. The boy was long gone. “We should get to class.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sherwin exhaled deeply as he stretched, bent at the waist, reaching for his right ankle. The gym floor wasn’t comfortable but right now he didn’t want to be near any of his classmates stretching on the placemats. Particularly Sean and Jonathan, who kept failing at being discreet in sneaking glances at him.

He lifted off his stretch, extending both of his legs into a V shape, reaching at the distant floorspace until he was flat against the polished surface. He was flexible, he participates in Sunday yoga with his mom and some of her girl friends. Breathing was key, breathing helped relax one into each position, breathing helped clear the head. Just keep breathing. Ignore everyone else.

Sitting up, his legs crossing, he brought his left arm across his chest, locking his right arm over it. He shouldn’t be mad at them, they didn’t read the note. But knowing their closeness with Liane, they probably already know the details. Focus, breathe, switch arms, relax. Ugh, it was embarrassing though. Not only did Sherwin endure the expenses of being bullied but there was some  _ mysterious _ someone stealing the damaged clothing and cleaning it, and now more than one person knows about it. Wait- Did Sherwin actually explain other details than just his sweaters going missing to Ozzy?

“Hey Sherwin?” 

The ginger jumped, startled. He didn’t hear anyone come toward him. Looking up to see Jonathan and Sean staring down at him in concern. Each boy took a seat at his side, Sherwin let his hands drop into his lap.

“Are you okay?” Jonathan asked, bringing a knee to his chest. “You were a bit upset earlier.”

Sherwin scoffed, his shoulders jumping in the action. “Only a bit?” He questioned. “I recall shoving Neil Cooper into a group of cheerleaders on my way to first period.” A grimace pulled at his mouth. “I’m pretty sure he got slapped.”

“Probably deserved it.” Sean quipped, sounding bitter. “He harrasses Liane every chance she’s by herself.” He added quickly, keeping his eyes fixed on the polished wood floor.

“That aside,” Jonathan spoke after a moment, forcing his gaze back to Sherwin, “Liane was, surprisingly, apologetic about asking and even about telling.”

“She literally,” Sean clapped his hands over his mouth, copying what the girl had done earlier. Then dropping his hands from his mouth with a snicker. “It was weird.”

“Really?” The ginger looked back and forth between the two captains in disbelief. “This is the same Liane we are talking about, right?”

“Same Liane.”

“Alright class,” Mrs. Warson, the nicely fit substitute teacher replacing Mr. Jetson today, everyone was thrilled about this news. “Gather up, your teacher left me a few notes for today -” she laughed heartily at the group of teenagers as they gave a collective groan “- but we’re going to ignore those in favor of a game of volleyball!” Excited cheers immediately replaced the groans and her laughter increased, fists on her hips. “Before that, roll call! Atten-shun!”

Like soldiers, all thirty-two students fell into line.

“Would Sherwin Lee Battlement please report to Miss Hamins’ office.” A feminine voice spoke over the intercom. “Would Sherwin Lee Battlement please report to Miss Hamins’ office.”

Eyes darted to the redhead, who looked less than happy about the announcement, mostly about the mispronunciation of his name.

Mrs. Warson followed the gazes of the teens to the one boy with a curious look. "Might as well change out of your gym wear, bud." She said, waving her clipboard toward one side of the gym where the locker rooms were.

"Yes, ma'am." The redhead sighed before walking off away from the group, ignoring the whispers and snickers.

Sherwin knocked on the door to Miss Hamins' office softly. It was always so uncomfortably quiet in the front office that making any noise louder than a footstep on the retro carpet seemed sinful, Sherwin almost felt guilty.

"Come in." The counselor's gentle voice called from the other side of the door.

He opened the door slowly, peering his head in first before actually stepping into the room. He recognized Ozzy in one of the two chairs in front of the wooden desk, the other teen giving him an oddly weak grin, then noticed the unfamiliar man standing beside the desk eyeing him with offense.

"You wanted to see me, miss?" Sherwin asked, forcing himself to look away from the stranger to the counselor, shutting the door behind him.

Miss Hamins smiled at him sweetly, giving a small nod before raising her hand to the empty chair. "Yes, Sherwin, please have a seat." Her smile broadened as the boy quickly did so, observing as he shot his fellow student a confused expression.

"Sherwin, are you familiar with Monsieur Flannigen," She moved her hand gracefully to the man beside the desk, "our school's french teacher?"

The boy looked the man over once. "I have heard about him but I've never had to take his class." He answered. The man gave a grunt, a sneer pulling at his mouth.

Miss Hamins chuckled softly. "No, I would suppose not." She shuffled a few papers on her desk. "Ozzy was telling us that you've been tutoring him in french, is this true?"

Sherwin nodded.

"Does Ozzy share his workbook with you when you study together?" She prodded gently.

"Miss Hamins," the man, Monsieur Flannigen spoke up, an ugly thick accent. "It is obvious that the workbook is shared judging by the graffiti scribbled in it." He jabbed a finger at the book atop the desk.

“Graffiti, sir?” Sherwin asked.

Ozzy nodded, a flabbergasted expression. “Yea, I know,  _ I _ draw in that book, like on most of my stuff, but Sherwin?” He waved a hand over the ginger. “Sherwin’s more respectful than that!” 

Miss Hamins opened her mouth to speak but stopped as Flannigen loudly scoffed in indignation. He grabbed the book and flipped through it’s pages. “Not your doodles, fool.” He spared a scowl at the two teens before pausing on a page, missing how quick Miss Hamins raised a brow at him. Almost slamming the book on her desk, he pointed at the red ink crossing out words and the same red ink writing in similar phrases just rearranged from the original. “That is the graffiti I mean.”

The two teens and the counselor leaned up to examine the page.

“My corrections?” Sherwin looked up from the book in confusion, Ozzy eyed the man unsurprised. Miss Hamins looked up as well, an unreadable expression.

“These ‘corrections’ go on for several more pages.” Flannigen crossed his arms, scowling again at Sherwin. “Respectful? Bah.”

Sherwin met Ozzy’s eyes with a knowing look. Apparently, the teacher hasn’t thoroughly looked through the book from the first chapter.

“I did not study the french language for over fifteen years to be insulted in such a way.” The man spat, tilting his chin upward to look down on the boys.

Ozzy didn’t bother hiding his eyeroll as Sherwin turned to Miss Hamins, a polite question in his eyes. The kind woman nodded, a bit curious as to where the teen was planning to take the problem. The boy shifted in his seat to fully face the angry man.

_ “Si vous me le permettez, monsieur,” _ Sherwin began slowly, his head falling to the side as he calculated his word choice. His eyes on Monsieur Flannigen for any sign of worse offense.  _ “La grammaire utilisee dans votre manuel par rapport a la grammaire dans votre classeur etait tres differente.” _ He watched the man’s thick brows knit closer together, making the scowl deepen.  _ “Cela a trouble Ozzy. Quand j’ai fait les premieres corrections, il a commence a comprende son travail.” _

Flannigen glowered at the boy.  _ “Ne sous-estimez pas ma classe, mon enfant. Je passe en revue tout pour chaque chapitre.” _

Sherwin blinked, first stunned then his eyes darkened. It wasn’t a good day.  _ “Vous etes peut-vetre enseignant, mais j’espere que vous vous rendez compte qu’il ya une difference entre enseigner une classe et participer a la classe. Meme vous devez participer tout comme vos eleves, monsieur.” _ His jaw ticked with annoyance, but, he forced down a smirk at the sudden rage in the man’s expression.

_ “Une telle insolence!” _

“ _ Mister _ Flannigen!” Miss Hamins rose from her seat, both hands flat on her desk. 

“That is not how I am addressed, ma’am.” He snarled at her.

“I do not care.” She shot back. “You have called your own student a fool, claimed another student’s  _ help _ as offensive graffiti, and I may not know what was exchanged in french but I certainly will see that it is reported to the headmistress. Arguing with a child, you are an adult.” She gave him a feirce look. “Act like it.”

Monsieur Flannigen clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together audibly, but he said nothing, not even to beg for silence from the headmistress. He stepped back from the desk, clasping his hands behind his back with his head lowered.

Miss Hamins glared at him for a few moments more before turning to Sherwin and Ozzy with a softer expression. “I am so sorry boys, Sherwin especially. Had I known just how prideful Mister Flannigen was I would have dealt with this myself.”

“Uh, for the record,” Ozzy spoke up, raising his hand, “I knew that he is this prideful.”

The counselor gave a breathy laugh, snapping another glare at Flannigen when he growled.

“How about you two take a free period, to study of course.” Her eyes flicked specutively between the two. “I’ll call your teacher Sherwin. Phy Ed, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Mrs. Warson today.” The boy answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Ozzy is a good guy and a bad guy at the same time. Who knew?! Who wants to help name Liane's raccoon! Write a name in the comments below!  
And who can guess Miranda's big idea!?


	10. The One Planning an Interview

“Okay, so what’s this thing Miranda’s been going off about?” Ozzy asked, his voice sounding a bit miffed as he sat down beside Sean at their usual lunch table, the bowl of oyster stew on his tray threatened to spill over onto his dry ham sandwich in the precarious movement. “I almost convinced Sean into a game of poker with some of my detention buddies.”

“No, you didn’t.” The blonde mumbled in response, his fingers prying open a carton of milk. Ignoring most of the rabble around their table.

“I did say almost-”

“You weren’t even close.” Sean cut him off, silencing the other boy with his free hand.

Jonathan chuckled lightly at the bickering twosome, bringing the attention to himself then to Liane when he looked over to her and Sherwin. “Do you have any clue about Miranda’s big idea?” He laced his fingers together over his tray, leaving his right index finger and thumb loose to grip his spoon, just dangling it over his bowl. 

Liane swallowed the bite of stew she had in her mouth, quickly shaking her head, her bangs falling into her face. “Not one. She just kept mentioning small details and the big promise that she’ll explain at lunch.” She explained from behind her napkin, dabbing the corners of her mouth with it with one hand and fixing her hair with the other.

“Small details?” Sean questioned.

“Whatever it is,” Ozzy began, speaking over his friend as he started pulling mayo packets out of his school bag and piling them in the center of the table. “It’s got her wound up enough to fucking  _ order _ me to not go anywhere but here after class.” He glared at the entertained smirks going around the table, softening only the slightest on Sherwin.

“Aw, poor wittle Ozzy doesn’t like getting pushed around?” Liane teased in a baby-talk tone, putting her hands to her face, squishing her cheeks.

“Oh bite me.” The boy flipped her off, using his free hand to hide the gesture from the nearest teacher.

“Anyway,” Sean spoke up again with more emphasis as he grabbed Ozzy’s hands and forced them down, ignoring the pout and whine he got in response. “You said some-”

A tray slammed on the table between Liane and Jonathan, cutting the boy off. Miranda herself dropped into the empty seat between the two teens with the biggest smile on her face.

“God dammit.” Sean huffed, dropping his head into his hand in defeat. Ozzy snickered quietly beside the blonde.

“So,” Miranda clapped her hands together excitedly, “are you guys ready for today’s big deal and soon-to-be THE biggest deal for our graduating class?”

Ozzy started clapping his hands together, mimicking the girl. “O-M-G, yas please.” He shook his head one way exaggeratedly, bouncing his shoulders, overall acting the stereotypical rich girl, attracting attention from the girls at the next table over. He almost cracked up into laughter at the unimpressed look he got from Miranda and the cringing from the rest of the group.

“Leave the white-girl bit to the white girls, Oz.” She puckered her lips at him in a pout.

“Alright,” he replied easily with a shit-eating grin, turning his gaze to Sean, not saying another word more.

The boy didn’t react immediately, he didn’t notice the smugness in the other’s face. Only when the awaiting silence persisted did the blonde look and realize what Ozzy was insisting. He shoved Ozzy, the teen cackling, into Jonathan, grumbling, “Grow up. Asshole.” Jonathan shoved back, ultimately just squishing the catcher in his own seat.

“As I was about to say, fuck off Oz,” Miranda starts again, adding the quick note with a pointed look to the boy. “Firstly, Liane, Sherwin -” she pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the two “- you two keep your Saturdays open, we three are gonna have a mall date.” She opened her hand, palm facing outward, to silence the ginger’s objection. Sean patted the boy’s shoulder sympathetically when Sherwin rested his chin in his own hand, defeated.

“And secondly, since I work for the school paper, you all should know how limited my column is and how censored my work is. Meaning I’m not aloud to investigate actual news and gossip around our school, not beyond revealing the next school bake sale or whatever,” she waved her hand in the air with a face of boredom, “so, I thought to myself, ‘just how can I do the school news and be happy with it?’ Then Tuesday's Incident happened and everyone was all over their school mandated blogs about it.” Both Miranda and Liane traveled as red quickly took over Sherwin’s face, resulting in the boy hiding his face in his tutu.

“And then it struck me,” she continued. “A non-school mandated blog, purely for our peer group about our classmates and ourselves. Mandated by yours truly.”

Miranda was looking pretty proud of herself, dancing slightly in her seat as she eyed around the table for signs of approval. The other five students, Sherwin having lowered his hands a bit, exchanged silent looks, none with a hint of disapproval or disagreement but more with intrigue.

Liane rubbed her index finger over her chin once before straightening up. “You said something about signed agreements. What was that about?” She asked.

The other girl grinned again, waving her hand in the air. “Oh, those were just assurances for using footage of club activities and occasional use of their equipment.” She giggled in a way that mixed innocence and suspicion. “It took a bit of persuasion with some, of course, but I have my methods.” She snatched one of the remaining packets of mayo from the pile and tore it open, smearing it on one of the dry slices of bread from her sandwich.

“Student news,” Jonathan began, sounding thoughtful.

“By the students,” Liane continued, a sly grin spreading over her features.

“And for the students.” Miranda finished with a firm nod, dunking her spoon into her serving of stew.

Ozzy hummed aloud, chewing on his lower lip before raising his head. “Is this just for our class or for the overall student body?” He asked, tipping his head at the girl.

The victorious spoonful of oyster stew paused at her glossy lips, the question bringing a new train of thought as she slowly took the bite. Sean passed his bowl of oyster stew over to Ozzy while they waited, scrunching up his nose with distaste; Liane ‘encouraged’ Sherwin to straighten his posture by pinching a nerve along the poor boy’s spine, Jonathan cringed with sympathy pain, making himself sit up more. 

“Okay, okay,” Miranda spoke up again. “I’ll start small, get a few main headlines and then invite members of other classes to be my reporters. No false stories will get by me, however, I will welcome little rumors to investigate.” She looked excitedly around the table again. “Sounds good right?”

“Sounds pretty solid,” Ozzy mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich, giving a thumbs up as the other members of the table nodded and hummed their agreements.

“What’s your first big story?” Jonathan asked.

“I’m so glad you asked,” Miranda giggled, clapping her hands giddily. “An interview with one of grade seven’s lowest members suddenly brought to the top.” She directed her spoon at Sherwin, who froze mid-drink.

“W-what?”

“I mean, come on, everyone is curious how you so quickly got the top kids in our class rallied behind you. Penelope’s scolding, her brother’s backing down, even a callback to an old prank against you - don’t think I don’t recognize your work Ozzy.” She waggled her spoon as the resident delinquent.

“So that  _ was  _ you and Margie.” Liane hummed as Sean and Jonathan exchanged confused looks.

“Ozzy! I told you to let that go.” Sherwin scolded the brunette then turned back to Miranda. “And easy answer. Jonathan.” All eyes turned to the blue-eyed boy.

“Hey, it wasn’t all me.” He shook his head, hands defensively up in the air. “I never told Liane to invite him to practice or to hang out afterwards.” Eyes quickly turned to the other girl at the table.

“What?” She demanded, lowering her spoon back into her bowl. “I’ve never kept it a secret that I think Sherwin could fit in our group.” She stuffed the spoon into her mouth without another explanation.

“It’s true.” Sean admitted with a sigh. “About not keeping it a secret. I, on the other hand, am still a bit against this, no offense Sherwin, that’s just me.” The blonde pressed his fingertips to his chest, shutting his eyes to the frowns directed at him.

“That’s fair,” Sherwin agreed calmly. “I wouldn’t appreciate being forced or peer pressured into befriending a stranger either. That sounds like politics.” 

“Thank you.”

Ozzy’s hand shot in the air. “Are we just gonna forget that I knew him first? I’m on a higher level of friendly with Sherwin than any o’ you.” He grinned smugly at the rest of them.

“Not for long~” Liane reached an arm around Sherwin’s neck, dragging the unfortunate ginger close, Miranda leaning in at her other side with a matching smirk. “Shopping buddies always stick together.”

I never-ack-agreed to that.” Sherwin struggled weakly against the girl’s grip. “Why am I suddenly being fought over?”

“Because you’re adorable.” Miranda giggled, twirling a finger through one of his curls.

“And so worth the trouble.” Ozzy added with a wink, not really bothering to help relieve Sherwin of Liane’s hold on him. “Thinking I’d just let Daniel Weever get away with his crimes.” He aimed a finger at each and every one of his friends. “Which is information that  _ none of you _ know.”

“Daniel Weever?” Miranda asked.

“Never heard of him.” Sean sipped from his milk carton.

“Wasn’t he last year’s locker room creeper?” Liane smirked at Miranda.

“Don’t know a thing.” Jonathan stirred his spoon in what remained of his stew.

_ “Merde a tous.” _ Sherwin scowled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I know but - y'know what? Whatever. I'm running low on material for after Sunday, so if there are any questions or details you wanna know, write them down in the comments below and I can answer them as material idea. Sound solid? Good. Ta~
> 
> P.S. I am literally using google translate so if you want to know what's being said in story just copy paste it into the box and find out for yourself cuz I forget what I wrote roughly a day after a post a chapter.


	11. The Thoughts Between The Lines

The One on The Sidelines

Finally, it was Friday. Game day. Nothing got Jonathan up before his alarm clock like game day. Both his gym bag and his school bag were waiting by his bedroom door as he got dressed, hurried to the bathroom and back to grab them both, then skipped down the stairs. Poking his head into the kitchen and finding his mother hard at work on breakfast.

“Good morning Mama!” he greeted cheerfully, biting his tongue when the woman jumped in surprise.

“Oh! Jonathan, mijo, you startled me.” Alicia Corazul patted her hand over her heart before returning to her task, giving the boy a questioning smile. “Why are you up so early?”

The teen’s smile faltered a bit, disbelief making it’s marks in his mind, but he shook his head, keeping hope. “I have a game today Mama.” He answered, forcing a nonchalant tone. “Remember? It’s on the calendar."  _ Like all of my home games. _ "You’ll come, right?” Let this game be it,  _ please, _ let this be the game she comes.

But no. He could see it in the way his mother slumped her shoulders, he watched as the sigh left her.  _ Not again, please, _ he mentally pleaded. She looked away from the eggs she was cooking to her youngest son with an apologetic expression. This always happens. “Sorry, mijo.” Everytime. “I promised Micheal I would go to his game.”  _ His  _ games she promises.  _ His _ games she sees. It’s always Micheal this, Micheal that, just  _ fucking _ Micheal. “Perhaps next time.” She said that last time, and the time before that, so on and so forth. Jonathan wasn’t important in comparison to  _ Micheal _ , not special, not worth just  _ one _ game to be seen. He's just nothing more than the second son.

He smiled anyway, his jaw clenched tight and his chest aching, focusing hard on keeping his hands from balling into fists. “Of course, Mama. Next time.” He stepped around her, heading towards the other door that led to the dining room. “I better hurry to school. Better make sure the guys are in peak condition.”

“Make sure to eat!” His mother called as the door swung shut behind him. “There’s toast on the table!”

At the aforementioned table there was a man already seated with his back to Jonathan reading the morning newspaper, a steaming mug of coffee on his left. The teen inhaled and exhaled quietly through his nose before approaching.

“Good morning, Papa.” Jonathan greeted the man. 

“Ah, good morning son.” Marcus Corazul lowered his paper onto the table to return the greeting, smiling warmly. “Do you have a game today? You are not up so early otherwise.” He folded up his paper and set it aside as Jonathan grabbed an apple from the centerpiece bowl and stuffed it into his school bag. Jonathan knew that his father knew he had a game, just like they both knew that his mother would go to Micheal’s game per usual, it's just routine so Jonathan isn’t completely emotionally neglected at home. At least one of his parents tried.

“ _ Si, _ Papa.” The boy answered in a positive tone. “A home game against Copperton.” His father hummed, nodding thoughtfully. Jonathan grabbed a couple pieces of toast off a large serving plate and bit into one, sprinkling a light amount of cinnamon and sugar on the other.

“Do you think your team will win?” Marcus asked curiously, “This isn’t exactly the little leagues anymore, mijo.”

Jonathan laughed good-naturedly. “Of course I do. This isn’t our first game Papa.” He puffed out his chest proudly like his team had already won the game. “Especially since I became captain.”

Marcus chuckled at his son. “I have no doubt.” He brought his coffee mug to his lips, sparing a glance at his paper as he took a sip. “I do have a couple clients today, just a bit of review work,” the man explained once he set his mug back down, “But I should be able to make it.”

The boy grinned more happily at the news. As previously noted, at least one of his parents tries. “I better be off then.” He said, biting into his second piece of toast as he turned to the open door leading into the entry hall. “See you at the game.” Jonathan followed that with a louder good-bye to his mother before jogging out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I’m not saying I’m straight but,” Miranda began out of the blue, breaking the morning’s silence, her hands splayed in the air in front of her, “if given the opportunity, I would totally kiss Hugh Jackman.” She met the odd looks given to her by Liane and Sherwin with mild innocence.

The boy took a moment to process what the girl said in the early fog of his mind before contributing with, “And? Who wouldn’t?” 

“He’s aged phenomenally well for a man in his early fifties.” Liane agreed, returning her attention to her phone where she was setting up Miranda’s new news blog.

“Yea, but, personally, with that thought - now - in mind,” Sherwin chewed the tip of his thumbnail. “I would at least go for one of the Chrises.”

“Really?” Miranda asked, looking a little surprised. “I figured you for, like, the metro-type guys.” She pointed her phone at him, the star shaped charm attached to it swung out with the movement.

“Metro?” He questioned.

“Well-groomed.” Liane explained, her primary attention on the blog Miranda had begged her to help set up. “Most times mistaken as the gay stereotype because how feminine good hygiene and self-maintenance seems. But its definition is about straight guys.”

Miranda nodded in agreement. “Duality of the common standards, but whatever and no offense to the Chrises. I only thought you were into, like, Disney brand boys.”

Liane gave an unexpected snort, her focus shifting further into the conversation. “Are you calling Jon a Disney brand boy?!” She began cackling at the thought, wrapping her arms around her stomach when she doubled over. Sherwin covered his face with a hand as he felt himself flush, attempting and failing to scowl at the girl. Miranda found herself biting into her sparkly pink lip gloss to keep from laughing along.

"I- I'm not exactly wrong, r-right?" The school reporter stammered, bringing her hand to cover her mouth as her struggle became more apparent. Liane only laughed harder if that was possible. 

"Oh, shut up." The boy grumbled, turning away from the girls to scowl down the hall, his arms crossing over his chest as he curled into himself against a neighboring locker. They were just teasing, he knew. At least Jonathan wasn’t here to hear it.

“Oh my gosh, Li-Li, we should do a test!” Sherwin turned back to the girls curiously, seeing Miranda grab hold of Liane’s arms. “Tomorrow at the mall we should test just what about Jonny-boi makes Sherwin all gooey inside.” She giggled, leaning heavily on her friend with some strange expression caught between dreamy and mischievous if that were possible.

Once Liane calmed down enough, seeming not to mind being squashed against her locker by the other girl, she brought her hand up to tap a single finger on her lower lip in thought. “Ooh, dare I agree to this experiment, Mi-Mi?” Both girl’s gazes roamed over to their target, faces falling further into dark intent. “I am quite curious~”

The boy felt himself bristle at their suggestions. “It’s not as simple as what you’re thinking, okay?!” He exclaimed. “Just let it go, alright?” Both girls pouted, parting to stand on their own and creeping closer toward the boy.

“He’s so popular~” Liane gushed.

“So strong~” Miranda cooed.

“He’s so sweet!”

“So handsome!”

“Perfect, just so perfect!”

“And incredibly smart.”

“Such a gentleman. He makes all the other guys look gross!”

“Captain of the baseball team!”

“His eyes are soo dreamy”

“Even upper class girls want him.”

Liane hooked her arm around Sherwin’s left and Mirnada snagged his right before the unfortunate ginger realized what exactly was going on.

“We’ve heard them all.” Miranda said quietly.

“Read every letter,” Liane added, tucking her bangs behind her ear with her free hand. “And watched every confession.”

“It’s not the same.” Sherwin insisted weakly. It felt like he was under attack all of a sudden, the comments and compliments he’s heard from other people, from other  _ girls _ for Jonathan, being thrown at him directly like weapons. It made his chest ache, reminding him of what Liane had said before, that his feelings may not be returned. But… It’s not the same. Not the same nor as simple as Jonathan’s so popular or handsome or strong. Not that Sherwin would ever willingly tell them anything, it was already clear that Jonathan didn’t remember. It didn’t matter though, Sherwin had been given a chance, a better chance than anyone else in their grade.

Before either of the girls could push more into what Sherwin means, the boy was tackled out of their grips and unceremoniously swung about in the middle of the hall, his assailant was cheering and laughing. Sherwin clung the arms that held him against whoever was spinning them both in unsteady circles, his legs kicking out. He knew that laugh well, well enough to be glad at the new turn for the morning.

“Ozzy! Ozzy, put me down!” He squirmed in the other boy’s arms once Ozzy stopped spinning them.

Ozzy only continued laughing, hugging the ginger close and lifting him off the ground again before setting Sherwin back on his feet and turning him so they were face-to-face. Taking Sherwin’s freckled face in his hands, the biggest grin on his lips. “You beautiful bastard!” The latino cried before smacking loud kisses on both of Sherwin’s cheeks. The confused boy pulled himself out of his friend’s grip, stumbling back as his face flushed anew while Ozzy just continued to dance in the middle of the hall like he just won a prize.

“What’s wrong with you?” Liane demanded as if she were the one that was suddenly attacked with such physical joy. Sherwin stood beside her, wiping away the wet spots on his cheeks with his sleeve.

“Only the best thing since the creation of Twinkies!” Ozzy cheered with another wild spin, his bag nearly missing a girl that was just trying to walk by. “Flannigen is on leave! Indefinitely!” He tossed his bag upward and jumped, catching it on it’s way back down. “No review! This is the best day ever!” 

Miranda gasped, her body starting to visibly vibrate with excitement. “Are you serious!” When Ozzy nodded, she joined in and began dancing with him, both teenagers getting odd looks from their fellow students that gave them a wide girth to go around them.

Liane tore her gaze from the duo to Sherwin, who continued watching them. “What does Mr. Flannigen being on leave have to do with you?” She asked him.

Sherwin glanced at her then back to Ozzy and Miranda, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I may or may not have made Monsieur Flannigen angry about some corrections in his class workbook then made him snap in front of Miss Hamins.” His head teetered from side to side as his hand rose to rub at his neck. “Of course it was only minimal effort on my part against a prideful teacher who took my assistance as an insult.” He gave a shrug, not quite hiding the entertained smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“What’s going on today?” All four teens jumped at the question, not noticing the arrival of the two baseball captains behind Liane and Sherwin. The two dancing stopped mid-step so sudden that Ozzy collided into the nearest locker then fell to the ground dragging Miranda down with and on him.

Jonathan tipped his head at them curiously. “Isn’t it a bit early to be celebrating?” He asks with a small chuckle. “Today’s game hasn’t even begun.”

The catcher flashes his captain a toothy grin, carefully pushing Miranda back so they were in a less indecent position. “There is more to celebrate than a game, man.” He cackles, his shoulders rumbling with the action. “My big review has been cancelled until further notice!” Sean whistles a small cheer for the fallen teens.

Miranda pushes herself back to her feet, using Ozzy's shoulders as support, then dusts off her skirt before extending a hand down to the boy. He took it and pulled himself up, primarily using the lockers to push himself upward. “ _ Our _ big review is cancelled until further notice.” She clarified, tapping his nose.

He swipes at her hand, rubbing his thumb under his nose. “Oh, my apologies, your majesty.” Ozzy bows deeply to her. “ _ Our _ review.” Miranda nodded her approval, holding her head high when he called her majesty. Then he turned to Jonathan and Sean. “So, cap, what’s this evening’s game plan?”

Jonathan’s grin broadened, as if he was glad Ozzy asked, he probably was. Wow, Sherwin never noticed that the boy had dimples. “Glad you asked, Oz. You’re up first.”

Ozzy blinked at him, scoffing at his captain in disbelief. Then he looked to Sean, who stared back evenly, and Ozzy came to the realization that Jonathan was serious, his expression falling to despair as he whined “Whyy?” His body slouching forward, his head falling back then rolling on top of his left shoulder, he gave Jonathan an angry pout.

“Strategy.” The other answered quickly. “Since visiting teams go first, they’ll see that you are our catcher and therefore won’t expect much when we’re up to bat.” Jonathan flashed perfect white teeth when he grinned this time, giving himself a cunning look.

Ozzy eyed him skeptically, “And what the hell makes you think I will just go along with that?” He crosses his arms over his chest, straightening up to meet his gaze coolly, chin tilted up just slightly. Was he really trying to negotiate his play skill? Does Ozzy have that kind of control? Wouldn't you want to take every chance to help your team win? These questions amongst a few others about the situation ticked at Sherwin’s brain as he and the rest of their group watched the negotiation, his eyes flicking from teenager to teenager for a sign that this wasn’t a typical scenario. He found no such sign.

“Alright, fair enough,” Jonathan shrugged after a moment, as if unsurprised his authority as the other’s captain didn't work as it would for any other member of their team. “What would be a fair trade for your best effort?” He folded his hands over his abdomen, an expression of loose expectation, business-like.

The catcher eyes him again skeptically, looking his classmate over a few times, his arms crossed over his stomach, before shaking his bangs out of his eyes. “Arcade. Mario Kart. Three rounds.” His pinky, ring, then middle finger, Ozzy counted off each item like a list, before changing the gesture into his index finger aimed at his captain. “I’ll kick your ass this time.”

The left corner of Jonathan’s mouth quirked further upward at the challenge. “Deal.” When Ozzy held up his fist, Jonathan responded by bumping knuckles with him. Sherwin leaned in toward Liane.

“What was that about?” He whispered quietly, watching as the captains walked on ahead, Ozzy following at a lazy pace. Liane began walking as well with Miranda at her right and Sherwin sticking close to her left, her thumbs tapping away at her phone again.

“Jon currently holds the highest records in every game at the arcade. Ozzy has been trying to beat him every chance he can.” Liane explained.

“Well, every game except for Dance Dance Revolution,” Miranda butted in, slipping her pink bead bracelet from one hand to the other with a giggle. “Jon can’t stand that game. Ozzy and I hold the highest records there.” She looked over to Sherwin with a satisfied smirk, then, her eyes widened with excitement. “Omigosh, Sherwin, we should dance a round tonight!”

“Tonight?” The boy startled at the sudden demand, his expression quickly filling with dread. “What? Why tonight?”

Liane’s eyes rolled with her head in Sherwin’s direction. “Because,” her tone was the very essence of ‘duh.’ “After the game, the entire team goes to the arcade for pizza and games to celebrate, then after that we do the MVP sleepover at Ozzy’s.”

“MVP sleepover?” He asked. “Who does that include?”

“Oh, just me, Jon, Ozzy, - of course - Sean, and Miranda if her cousin can drop off a few necessities.” Liane answered.

“Which she can.” Miranda added proudly holding her head up high. “Tonight will be great! I got some new face masks to try.” She skipped giddily, her makeshift bow bounced in the movement.

Liane turned to her friend with instant interest. “Are they wash off or peel off?” 

“Peel.” The other girl answered, patting her shoulder with assurance.

“Perfect.”

“Um, am I supposed to go too?” Sherwin asked, pointing at himself. Both girls looked at him in bewilderment.

“Uh, of course?” Liane declared mimicking his questioning tone. “You are invited and in the case that you decline, Ozzy just might kidnap you for the weekend.” Sherwin stepped back a bit, concern obvious in his eyes, to which she rolled her eyes again. “I’m just kidding.” She sighed. “But he will whine about it and that is annoying on it’s own.”

"Yeah," he sighed. He could already hear Ozzy begging, imagining the teen actually on his knees in the middle of the arcade with the biggest puppy eyes he could attempt. Just like when he first asked Sherwin to tutor him in french.

** _Louis Anne Marks _ ** _ created a group chat. Invited _ ** _ Jonathan S. Corazul_ ** _ ,  _ ** _Sean Smith_ ** _ ,  _ ** _Miranda Greenwall_ ** _ , and 2 others. _

** _Louis Anne Marks_ ** _ changed their name to  _ ** _True Ace_ ** _ . _

** _Sherwin LeBattement: _ ** _ Louis Anne? _

** _True Ace:_ ** _ We don’t talk about it _

** _Miranda Greenwall_ ** _ changed their name to  _ ** _Imagine Pink_ ** _ . _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ just like Ozzy’s real name being Ozland _

** _Ozzy Warwhipps:_ ** _ and lik the dragun lady said _

** _Ozzy Warwhipps: _ ** _ we DONT talk bout it _

** _Ozzy Warwhipps_ ** _ changed their name to  _ ** _Bastardbio_ ** _ . _

** _Bastardbio_ ** _ changed  _ ** _Sherwin LeBattement_ ** _ ’s name to  _ ** _Gingertwink_ ** _ . _

** _Gingertwink:_ ** _ HEY _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ ;3 _

** _Imagine Pink_ ** _ changed  _ ** _Gingertwink_ ** _ ’s name to  _ ** _Pretty-boy_ ** _ . _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ hey! _

** _Pretty-boy:_ ** _ not helpful Miranda _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ so? _

** _True Ace:_ ** _ it fits _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ agreed _

** _Pretty-boy:_ ** _ 🖕 _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ soory ur not my type _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ maybe nxt yr _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ 0.0 _

** _Imagine Pink: _ ** _ <.< OOOOOOOOOO _

** _Imagine Pink: _ ** _ Ozzy!!! Whaaaaaa _

** _Pretty-boy: _ ** _ OZZY _

** _Jonathan S. Corazul:_ ** _ Guys, we’re supposed to be paying attention _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ bored tho _

** _Imagine Pink: _ ** _ study perod _

** _Pretty-boy:_ ** _ Free period _

** _Jonathan S. Corazul:_ ** _ And Ozzy _

** _Jonathan S. Corazul: _ ** _ Behave _

** _Bastardbio_ ** _ changed  _ ** _Jonathan S. Corazul_ ** _ ’s name to  _ ** _Captain Buzzkill_ ** _ . _

** _Captain Buzzkill:_ ** _ Very mature… _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ i kno ;) _

Jonathan rolled his eyes at the string of messages, primarily at Ozzy. Luckily, he was in Art class, he was allowed to use his phone during work time as long as it was for class, however there was no helping the notifications appearing over the screen and he happened to keep track of the conversation. Nope, no helping it at all.

He switched tabs back to his inspiration for today's assignment once his phone was silent for more than ten seconds. They were working on lighting, pretty simple right? Wrong, so, so wrong, especially for Jonathan’s overachieving tendencies. He has to outdo his classmates, he just has to. So not only is the top student of grade seven of Newgate’s private academy working on his lighting art project, he will be messing with perception too. And what better place to get inspiration than one of the millions of pictures from Liane's blog.

He chewed his lip in thought, scrolling deeper and deeper into Liane's blog. It was a bit difficult considering the girl posted almost everything she does from videos of her dad talking to someone on the phone and calling it "boring business" to summer memories at one of Jonathan's grandparents' houses to cliche pictures of her food. Of course, her more recent pictures primarily included Sherwin, the one at practice and when they were at the diner, and some where she caught him in between classes. Stopping on one picture, reposted from Miranda’s blog, the three of them just outside the school doors, Miranda winking at the camera with her tongue poking out, Liane had her eyes crossed and her lips puckered making a fish face, and Sherwin was laughing at her. The corner of his mouth quirked upward.

It’s only been three days, but, ever since they started hanging out with Sherwin things have been, surprisingly, pleasant. Jonathan finally got a legitimate reason to ask Penelope to leave him alone without looking like a jerk, the slightly snide question about her apology aside. It’s been nice without her randomly clinging to his arm as if they were a thing. And the others really warmed up to Sherwin too, minus Sean but he’s fairly shy so he’ll take a while, it’s a wonder how and why Sean became friends with someone like Ozzy. Jonathan wondered why Sherwin didn’t seem to  _ have _ friends before Jonathan and the others started hanging around him. Sherwin was nice, friendly, a little awkward but who isn’t? It’s not like he was a jerk, but then, there are a lot of jerks around school and they all have friends, well, “friends.”

Jonathan hummed to himself, continuing his perusal of his childhood friend’s blog.

“Any progress, Mister Corazul?” Jonathan jumped at Ms. Bones’ voice behind him. He looked up at her with a polite smile.

“Not yet.” He answered quietly. “Sorry.”

Ms. Bones smiled sweetly back, then turned a bit cheeky. “You know, you can easily find an object around the classroom and take a seat by one of the windows.” She spoke as if she were just mentioning something she had heard as she moved on to the next student.

“Right,” He muttered after her, glancing over at the more artistically inclined students already taking up most of the stools by the windows, each one with either a single or a small collection of items in front of them as they scribbled away at their drawing pads. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand and prayed that it would be the answer to his problem.

** _Bastardbio: _ ** _ uck fugin Tony Rynger can suck my ass _

** _Bastardbio: _ ** _ thinin he can do the opening riff from pump it _

** _Pretty-boy: _ ** _ the Black Eyed Peas song? _

** _True Ace: _ ** _ no1 wants to hear about someone sucking ur ass oz _

** _Bastardbio: _ ** _ no like m sayin he did _

** _Captain Buzzkill: _ ** _ Guys seriously? _ ** **

** _True Ace:_ ** _ I'm guessing that's Jon _

** _Bastardbio: _ ** _ u would b correct dollface _

** _Pretty-boy:_ ** _ thts awfully mean ozzy _

** _Bastardbio: _ ** _ HEY it's not like I'm lying _

** _Pretty-boy:_ ** _ still _

** _Captain Buzzkill:_ ** _ Ummm… Ow??? _

** _Sean Smith:_ ** _ do you know what an annoyance it is when your phone keeps vibrating in the middle of a lecture????  _

** _Captain Buzzkill:_ ** _ THANK YOU _

** _Bastardbio _ ** _ changed  _ ** _Sean Smith_ ** _ 's name to  _ ** _Vice Captain Buzzkill_ ** _ . _

** _Vice Captain Buzzkill: _ ** _ really oz? _

** _Captain Buzzkill:_ ** _ Do you see what I've been dealing with? _

** _Bastardbio: _ ** _ lolz  _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ ned a hanky 4 ur tears? _

** _Vice Captain Buzzkill:_ ** _ fuck off _

Wait a minute. That was it! Jonathan put his phone on silent before setting it down atop his desk then reached into his pocket, pulling out his handkerchief. He unfolded it to it’s full size, pinched the center between his thumb and forefinger, then dropped it on to his desk. The square of fabric held a vague form with the pinched center at a peak and the rest of it holding just the slightest angles and shadows, Jonathan flipped through his drawing pad for a clean page, quickly sketching out the object in front of him.

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ GUYS _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ guysguysguysguysguys _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ we shud eat outside @ lunch _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ eeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh _

** _Pretty-boy:_ ** _ it is nice out _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ ^^^^^^ !!!!!!!!! _

** _Captain Buzzkill:_ ** _ He’s not wrong _

** _True Ace:_ ** _ agreed _

** _Vice Captain Buzzkill:_ ** _ Seconded _

** _Imagine Pink:_ ** _ YAY _

** _Bastardbio:_ ** _ FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU _

Jonathan joined Liane on the grass, setting his tray on his knees, they were the first two to show up, both claiming spots in the shade of a nearby tree.

“So, how many group chats is this now?” He asks her, picking at his rectangular piece of pizza with his spork.

Liane hummed with her bottle of orange juice pressed to her lips, two fingers tapping in a slow rhythm against the bottle’s side as her eyes wandered over the other students that also decided the day was nice enough to eat outside. She capped her drink, “Well, I deleted the old chat because  _ none _ of us would want Sherwin to find out anything of recent conversation and be the least bit offended, and then there’s all the chats that exclude just one person of our group, I need to make a new one that excludes Sherwin, so….” Her lips continued to move as her fingers stretched out. “Six!” 

“Is that including the one you made and removed yourself from?” He raised a brow, a smirk spreading over his features.

“No, of course not,” she waved him off like the question was nonsense. “Which reminds me, someone needs to add Sherwin to that one too.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes at her. Any of the group chats that was missing one of their numbers was usually used to discuss birthday or holiday gifts for the one excluded, otherwise Ozzy would just troll whoever wasn’t in the chat and in the process annoy everyone else. “Okay, so a total of seven different chats.”

“Eehhh….” Liane leveled her hand, tipping it back and forth .

“Are there other chats that most of us are involved in?” He asked, trying to think about any other group chats he is in himself with their friends, aside from the listed seven. There’s him and Ozzy, and Sean, then both, one with Liane, another with Miranda for some reason, and then one with the two of them. That’s six. He hasn’t really tried talking to Sherwin, which is, admittedly, kind of crappy of him.

“Going outside wasn’t a bad idea.” Sean said as he approached with Miranda skipping at his side.

“Uh, duh,” she replied, “have any of my ideas ever been bad?” 

“Would you like that list in order or alphabetized?” Liane asked, watching as the two sat down at the edge of the shaded area.

“Oh, shut up.” Miranda stuck her tongue out at the girl. “They were all good ideas, you just won’t admit it.” 

“Following that homeless guy was  _ not _ a good idea and you can’t change my mind about that.” Liane shot back, pointing a yellow-painted nail at her making Miranda cringe at the memory.

“Okay, okay,” she relented, picking at the hem of her skirt.  _ “A few _ of my ideas aren’t the best.”

Jonathan's brow quirked upward, a cheeky smirk spreading over his features. “Does the shark tank fiasco at Aqualand sound familiar?”

“Fine!” Miranda snapped. “A lot of my ideas aren’t good! Happy?”

“Yes.” Liane quipped, popping a piece of her pizza into her mouth.

“Did I hear something about Aqualand?” Ozzy todded up to the group and dropped himself right next to Sean invading the blonde’s personal space. “Would be nice to visit the shark tank again.” He added with a cheeky grin towards Miranda, who pouted over her cup of red grapes.

Sean scooted away from the boy and closer to Liane, giving himself some space. “Sure, you know, if we’re allowed back after you took the trainer’s spot and almost lost your arm to a great white.”

“And Miranda painted makeup on the underwater glass displays for the blue sharks.” Liane added.

“Let’s not forget Sean falling into the whale shark exhibit.” Jonathan snickered as the boy shuddered, earning a glare.

“Hey, that one was my bad,” Ozzy admitted patting Sean’s shoulder, making him jump. “I didn’t mean to push you in, at least whale sharks don’t attack humans.”

“It’s a wonder why I still hang around you.” Sean grumbled low.

The latino snickered, leaning over on to his buddy, tickling Sean’s ribs. “Because ~ You loooove me ~” He laughed more openly when the other shoved him back. “You wouldn’t know what to dooo without me ~”

“Just shut up.” Sean ordered, his face reddening in embarrassment. The other’s laughing at them like usual.

Then, Liane hummed, Jonathan watched curiously as she looked back to the doors to the cafeteria. “Sherwin is taking a while, isn’t he?” She asked, sounding almost concerned. He followed her gaze as two older students walked out chatting animatedly.

“I saw him right before I went in line.” Ozzy explained, turning himself around to look as well, Sean and Miranda followed suit.

“Maybe he got held up by a teacher,” Jonathan suggested despite the worried way his brow came together. “Mr. Kreller likes talking to him.”

“That, in it’s own way, sounds worrisome.” Miranda commented.

“Don’t say it like that.” Ozzy turned to her. “Kreller wouldn’t - He’s not like  _ that.” _

“And you would know?”

“Yes, I would. My Ma works helps him a lot with the school plays.”

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ ”

“ _ No. _ ” Ozzy scowled at her. “Not like  _ that _ either. Shut up.” He pointed an accusing finger at her only to be giggled at.

"Oh! There he is." The two looked up again at the doors when Liane said that to see Sherwin walking up the courtyard path.

"Heyy!" Ozzy greeted, his arms raising wide and open, a big grin. "What took so long? I missed you." 

"That's so sweet." Sherwin replied as he sat down between Jonathan and Ozzy. "Ms. Kolier wanted to talk about one of my projects I handed in and asked if I was willing to participate with the bake sale next month." 

"So Jon was right," Sean shifted in his spot, moving his tray towards the center of their circle, his food mostly untouched. Sherwin blinked in confusion at him. "Held up by a teacher."

"Should've been taking bets." Ozzy sniggered.

Sean's eyes rolled. "You would have been broke then, since Jon won." The other boy shrugged in response.

"Ms. Kolier?" Miranda questioned, tearing a piece off her pizza slice. "She's the one who supervises the concession stands during school events right?" She bit into the piece she tore.

Sherwin nodded, "She also teaches the Home Ec. class near the kitchens."

"I always wondered," Ozzy chimed in, taking the pizza off Sean's tray and shifting around to lay on his stomach. "What exactly goes on in that class?"

Sherwin picked up his pizza, oblivious to the envious stares going around when they all recognized it was stuffed crust instead of the same crappy stuff they have, he shrugged. "Cooking, baking, sewing, shopping tips, basically just how to handle housework and such."

"So," Ozzy bit aggressively into the pizza. "You're learning to be a housewife? You wear a cute frilly apron too?" He teased with his mouth full, almost spitting his food.

The ginger narrowed his eyes at the other boy, biting his tongue on a threat in favor of, "Everyone should know how to at least cook and see, even military personnel are taught that I believe." He took a bite from his own pizza, chewing and swallowing before he continued. "Can't always have my parents cleaning up and taking care of me."

"Amen to that." Jonathan agreed, raising the last piece of his pizza in cheers. 

"You say that just because of how your mom dotes on Micheal." Liane quipped.

"Micheal?" Sherwin asked, looking from his crush to the girl.

"Jon's older brother." Sean supplied. "He's a senior this year but he's taking college classes for credit into med school. Not the nicest guy honestly." He added that last part in a quieter tone.

"We don't get along well." Jonathan added, curling his lip in a sneer, not an expression he shows often. Ozzy just scoffed at that.

"Don't get along he says," the brown eyed boy nudged Sherwin's leg. "Those two's fights make mine and Nicky's look like preschoolers crying over crayons." He snickered at the look of concern on Sherwin's face.

"Ozzy." Jonathan warned, making the other actually lower his head, snickering subsiding quickly. He met Sherwin's concerned expression with a hopefully decent smile of assurance. "It's just a sibling thing. Nothing to worry about, really." He didn't even need to look back to know that Sean and the girls all had a judgemental brow raised at him, he would be more surprised if they didn’t.

"I-if you say so." Sherwin didn't sound very convinced. "I mean, I haven't actually seen Ozzy and his cousin fight but I guess…" He shrugged, not really finishing the sentence. 

"Does Sherwin have any brothers or sisters?" Miranda questioned, shifting her weight to lean on one hand. The boy shook his head.

"The closest I have to a sibling would be my cousin Louis." He explained before giving a small giggle. "Our dad's are twins and it's a bit of a family joke that Louis and I were born on the same day."

"Really?" Ozzy's head tipped sideways. "What are the chances of that?"

Sherwin just shrugged again. "We technically weren't, but, y'know, time zones are a weird thing between France and the states."

Ozzy's mouth made an "o" shape as he took another bite out of his food. Then he perked up. "Ah, 'fore I f'git," he began, spitting his food over his tray, Sherwin scooting himself and his belongings closer to Jonathan to avoid being hit by chewed up crust and cheese. Ozzy swallowed before continuing, "Delaney had an issue with some of the kits getting their shots, she says Sunday might be a better day to check 'em out."

"Oh, okay." Liane spoke up to Jonathan's surprise. She was planning on getting a pet? For real this time? Wait, was this just another thing to get back at her dad? Probably. She’s always hated the man.

Miranda perked up with interest, her handkerchief bow bouncing like cartoonish bunny ears. “You’re getting a raccoon, Li-Li? Why didn’t you tell me?” She demanded, nearly pouncing on the girl. “Have you thought of names? Oh! Are you getting a boy or a girl??” 

The girl under question pushed Miranda back onto her own patch of grass and fixed the ribbon around her neck. “I haven’t really thought too much on it,” Liane answered. “I’d just figure it out when I get there.” She gave a careless half shrug.

“Bad idea…” Ozzy drawled, tossing the remains of his pizza on his tray. “Delaney is set on getting good homes for the kits, she’s not just gonna pass them out without being sure, like dog pounds and most adoption centers.”

Sean nodded his agreement. “And you shouldn’t be dragging an animal into your war against your dad like some half baked plan to make him miserable.” He leaned back onto his elbows and stretched out his legs from their crossed position. “You already do that easily enough just by warning your caretakers about his sleazy habits.”

“Speaking of,” Jonathan mimicked the blonde. “Before your dad gets another lawsuit for harassment, I’m supposed to tell you to tell him that my dad can’t help anymore if he’s not actually innocent.”

Liane rolled her eyes. “I’ll see that he gets the memo. I’ve been stockpiling videos to use against him anyway.” She sounded bored as she pulled out her phone. “Ruin his politician career, if possible. Maybe a birthday present to myself when I turn sixteen.”

“Uh,” eyes turned to Sherwin again, who, again, looked very concerned. “I’m confused. Why are we talking like harassment and lawsuits against them like it’s normal?”

“In a girl’s world,” Miranda spoke up with a mildly annoyed expression, “it kind of is normal.”

Before anymore could be said, or in Sherwin’s case, worried about, the school bell rang for the end of lunch. Everyone gathered up their remains and trays and headed towards the doors. Jonathan looked back at Sherwin still seated in a bit of stunned confusion.

“Hey,” he watched as the ginger jumped, quickly snapping to attention. The latino offered a relaxed smile. “It’s okay, these things are normal. You’ll get used to it.” Sherwin gave him an uncertain look that Jonathan chuckled at. “Just trust me. You will eventually.”

With that, Sherwin watched him walk onward into the building, concern still lingering at the edges of his mind. But, dammit it all, the poor boy couldn’t help the redness rushing to his face. He shook his head and stood up, picked up his things and hurried in after the rest of the students.


	12. A Little More Care and Consideration

It has been a while since Sherwin last went to a sporting event. Partly because the last time he went, he had an unfortunate and traumatizing incident involving a group of older students, and partly because he never was that interested in sports -- unless it involved Jonathan. Surprise, surprise.

So being at a baseball game for the first time in, basically, a year was both nerve wracking and exciting. But at least Miranda and Liane were enjoying the flags he made, the large triangular flag Miranda danced with was an old assignment Sherwin had turned in to Ms. Kolier’s class while Liane waved one of three little flags he had made in a stressful fit only hours ago, Sherwin held the other two. The big flag was the blue of Newgate’s uniform color with  **Newgate Falcons** cut out in a pretty cursive script from white and yellowish-gold fabric. The mini flags were the same blue but each one had the first initial of Jonathan, Sean, and Ozzy. Together, they waved the flags excitedly at each successful play, Sherwin was glad that the girls liked them so much.

Now, he was walking towards the fence where the Falcon team was lined up for bat, where Ozzy beckoned him, frantically waving a hand through the fence links. Liane was actually the one that noticed him first, then, she shoved Sherwin forward to answer the call.

“What line does a guy need to say to get a cutie like you to get me a candybar?” Ozzy asked the moment Sherwin was within earshot, his fingers gripping the links loosely, a crooked grin on his face.

“”Do you flirt with everyone or is it just me?” The ginger boy asked, crossing his arms, his two flags in one hand with the initials J and O facing outward. One brow rose as the latino boy snickered mischievously.

“You are not my only target,” he admitted, shrugging casually, his head dropping on to one shoulder, the grin never leaving his face. “But you are my favorite.”

Sherwin tried to ignore the heat rising to his face, thankful for the fading light to hide it.

“Does it bother you?”

He blinked, and it seemed Ozzy’s crooked grin softened as if ready to apologize for some offense. Thinking back to any other time Ozzy flirted with Sherwin, it was primarily to avoid his assignments and never anything serious. It was just playful, as red in the face as Sherwin would get, he didn’t mind it. 

“No,” he answered, “I was just curious.”

Ozzy snickered again, the usual grin returning. “Are you jealous?” He pressed his forehead against the fence, the strands of hair that weren’t held back by his cap slipping through the chains. “I’m only practicing, promise.”

Sherwin’s eyes rolled in mock annoyance, this level he was used to.

“I am not jealous.” The freckled boy declared, shaking his head. “And practicing for what? To be a womanizer?”

“I wouldn’t say womanizer only.” Ozzy responded without missing a beat. “Don’t want to limit myself to just one side of the field, y’know?” He pulled back from the fence, glancing over his shoulder at the game behind him for a brief moment, then turning back to Sherwin. “Now, about that candy bar?” 

“Fine, fine,” Sherwin uncrossed his arms to wave at the other boy as he walked off towards the concession stand. He wasn’t really sure how to respond to the vague analogy, and neither did he want to.

“Thank you!” He heard Ozzy call.

Sherwin pointed to the stand when he looked over at the bleachers to see Miranda and Liane watching him. In response, Miranda hoisted the flag that was as long as she is tall over her head and waved it side to side like a banner. Liane gave the slightest of smirks and held up her phone, probably taking a picture of the scene. The ginger chuckled to himself as he continued toward the concession stand.

The stand itself, as he heard from older theater members that were once members of the sports teams, was made from a remodelled equipment shed. Mainly what happened was that they knocked out part of a wall and put in a few counters and easy-to-use cooking equipment, it’s well stocked with a variety of candies, and soda, and easy-to-cook foods like hotdogs and pretzels, all for fairly cheap prices. Not many people bought from it though, except parents trying to appease younger children brought to watch their siblings play, usually ending with sugar-filled extra hyperactive little monsters they have to bring home. Ah, another reminder that it’s great to be an only child. And the line to the counter wasn’t that long!

“I should have asked what he wanted.” Sherwin muttered to himself, eyeing the selection of different candy bars they had on a display rack on the counter. He waved politely to Ms. Kolier, who supervised the students manning the stand. She waved back, then waved him forward.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a game of any sort, Mister Battement.” The teacher had one arm crossed over her chest, hand nestled in the crook of the opposite elbow, and tapped her chin with her free hand in a thoughtful manner. “What makes this such a special occasion?”

“I actually have friends to go with and watch, I guess?” The boy chuckled weakly, twisting the bottom hem of his polo shirt in his hands. “It is pretty weird. I’m usually talking to my papa on the computer by now.” He wondered vaguely what he’s parents were discussing without him, or if Louis had already interrupted, demanding to see Sherwin.

Ms. Kolier chuckled with him, a little more happily. “It is good you have such a strong bond with your parents, Sherwin dear,” she nodded in agreement with herself, “but it is wonderful to hear you are finally making friends. I know how you struggled.”

Sherwin nodded quickly, not really wanting to talk about it further. “It’s nice.” He replied. “Weird but nice.” He partially turned and pointed to the closest front row seats of the bleachers facing the baseball field where the girls stood cheering the team on. “Miranda really liked my Falcons flag I made for the school pride assignment.” The boy chuckled again, recalling her offers to buy the flag, he just gave it to her. It’s not like he needed another decoration for his room. “A-and I made these mini flags last minute,” he held up the two flags in his hands for his teacher to see, “Liane has the third one.”

The woman looked over the flags delightedly, eyeing the two letters on them with curiosity. “They’re lovely, Sherwin.” She praised him the same way she did in class, elegantly and honestly. “You always had such a skill with a needle.” She chuckled as Sherwin ducked his head bashfully.

“Now what can I get for you, dear?” Ms. Kolier asked, reminding him that he was at the concession stand for a reason.

“Oh, right,” he looked over the display rack again, still unsure what Ozzy would like, “a Three Musketeers, I guess.”

She nodded and reached below the counter, pulling up the treat. “That will be one dollar and fifty cents.”

Sherwin took his student card out of his pocket, something every student uses to carry an ‘allowance’ to pay for small amenities only on school grounds. He handed it to her, watching quietly as she slid it through the card reader on the counter, then taking it back along with the musketeers bar. Waving goodbye as he walked away.

Returning to the fence, Ozzy wasn’t alone this time. Jonathan was with him, and another one of the team members Sherwin wasn’t familiar with, it made him a little leery.

"Here," Sherwin poked Ozzy’s cheek with the treat through the fence. "You didn't say what you wanted, so I just got the first thing I saw." He gave a shrug.

"It's cool, these are good." the other boy replied, grinning happily as he took the candy bar. Only for that grin to drop as his treat was snatched out of his hands, crossing frustrated gazes with Jonathan, Sherwin and the unnamed teammate looking back and forth between the two with uncertainty.

“We are in the middle of a game, Oz.” Jonathan crossed his arms, treat in one hand and a face of disappointment. “There’s granola bars in the cooler. Like always. Try one for once.” He looked over to Sherwin, who stepped back nervously, expecting to get scolded as well. “Please, refrain from encouraging him.”

“ _ Meirda cristo _ ,” Ozzy scoffed, swiping back the musketeers bar. “Don’t get between a guy who needs more sugar than what those jaw breaking rocks give and a piece of real sugar.” In two swift moves, the catcher tore the packet with his teeth and bit off a large chunk. “Ish ah dumb mov-” he swallowed the bite “- _ demonio de azucar. _ ” He growled before walking back to the lineup, tossing a hand over his shoulder. “I’ll pay you back later, Win!”

Sherwin watched Ozzy’s retreating back for a moment then his eyes flickered to Jonathan, who was frowning at his teammate. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” the other boy sighed, shaking his head. “It isn’t your fault,” Blue eyes turned to Sherwin with their usual cheer, a humored grin on his lips. “It’s not like Ozzy followed rules anyway. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.” He chuckled, head shaking.

Something about the sound of Jonathan’s laughter flustered Sherwin, heartbeat picking up again that he worried it would pop out again. That would be embarrassing, especially with how close they were, separated only by the fence. No! Keep it together, Sherwin, now isn’t the time for a fantasy. Just step away from the fence.

It wasn’t lost on him, the odd look Jonathan gave him when the ginger obeyed his thoughts, but he’ll just pretend for now.

“Alright then,” Jonathan spoke as if coming to some realization, stepping away as well. He looked to his teammate then jerked his head back to the lineup. “See you after the game.” With a final wave, the two boys on the inside of the fence left to rejoin their team. Sherwin waved back before turning to join the girls, both having their signature expressions of amusement.

In the short time Sherwin has spent around the most popular kids in his class, he’s noticed a few things: their personalities are not far off from the way everyone perceives them to be;

Liane is the second-in-command of the group but, unlike Jonathan, she actively takes charge over some things, the others seem kind of passive to it - Ozzy is an exception even though he eventually goes along with it. She’s also a bit of a phone addict.

Sean isn’t as stoic as the class thinks, he’s just quiet, usually talking only when he’s invited into the conversation or when Ozzy gets obnoxious. Maybe he’s just shy.

Ozzy is simply loud, like he can’t stand a moment of peace, or trying to keep his mind off of something. Friendly, and almost overbearingly protective - perfect since he is an adoring big brother. He’s also surprisingly secretive for someone who likes to talk just for the sake of it. 

Miranda, who Sherwin has known even less than the rest, is pretty similar to Ozzy, loud but a different reason. She actually enjoys the noise around her, perhaps a busybody?

Then there’s Jonathan, what isn’t there about him that nobody already knows? Athletic, friendly, charming, smart, the list could go on. Sure, the fact that he has an older brother was news to Sherwin, and that they didn't get along was something to think about, maybe it was a sibling competition sort of thing. Nonetheless, Jonathan, as privately as Sherwin knew him, is as sweet and kind as he knew before.

“I’m telling you,” Miranda’s voice sounded giddy with excitement, “it’s a thing.” Her expression matched voice, if not a little more mischievous. She had the dark pink hoodie of her bright pink sweatshirt pulled over her brunette hair showing off the little cat ears on top.

“I just don’t see it.” Liane replied, shaking her head, her usual high ponytail lowered to hang over her right shoulder, the fake yellow blossom attached to her hair tie had fraying petals and a faded center.

“Don’t see what?” Sherwin asked as he reclaimed the empty spot between them, that they designated for him. Something about the perfect placement they had said, but being set between the two more socially active girls was a little disconcerting but, somehow, he felt safer. How that would make sense, he didn’t know.

“Nothing,” Liane waved her hand, dismissing the question. “Miranda has lost her mind.” The girl in question stuck her tongue out at the other. 

“Okay?” He raised a brow, looking back and forth between the two skeptically. They tended to have strange conversations when left by themselves, at least, according to Sean and Ozzy.

“Puh-lease,” Miranda’s head rolled with her eyes. “You see it, you just won’t admit it.” She attempted to cross her arms over one corner of her flag, giving a haughty huff.

“What is Liane supposed to see?” 

“Something absolutely pointless.” Liane sighed, crossing her own arms. “Nothing to worry about.” She turned up her nose as if that would end the conversation. It didn’t.

“What would it take for you to believe?” Miranda demanded, stamping her foot in frustration. “A three piece suit? Flower petals and glitter raining from the sky? Maybe Ghibli animation-style tears?”

“Try a little more evidence.” Liane shot back.

“Moka and Kurumu are constantly bumping chests! It’s a thing!”

“So what? It’s just hypersexualization, like most of those stu- those shows you watch.”

Miranda blinked at Liane, she didn’t miss the catch that Liane made. Liane, for once, seemed worried. Sherwin, like usual lately, was confused.

“Did you just almost call Rosario+Vampire stupid? And the rest of the shows I watch?”

Rosario+Vampire? That sounded familiar. But that expression on Miranda’s face was dangerous and scary and the fact that Liane looked scared of her, Sherwin was getting increasingly worried. Stressful.

“What kind of show is that?” He asked, stepping a little more in between the two, trying to block their views of each other. Oh, he hated when people started getting angry, or aggressive in general. Nothing good usually came out of it, but that may only be past experience.

As Sherwin hoped, the promise of violence cleared from the girl’s face replaced with excitement again, then, she began talking, and talking, and talking about this show about a human guy accidentally enrolling into a school for monsters and collecting a harem of gorgeous and powerful girls to protect him. But, hey, no fighting.

Another hour, the game finally ended, and Miranda was  _ still _ talking - now, about another show about a reincarnated priestess and a half dog demon. Sherwin would have been impressed if he didn’t feel so tired from listening for so long and if he didn’t feel so cold. He should have brought a sweater. How did Liane and Miranda tolerate the chill in skirts?

At some point during the final innings of the game, an older man had joined them wearing a full suit - maybe he came straight from work? probably a parent? - Liane started talking to him about the previous innings and reminding him which number belonged to which player. Sherwin assumed she knew him. Newgate still won 25-10. Now the man followed them to wait with the parents outside the locker rooms.

“Please do DDR with me.” Miranda pleaded, tugging on his arm, her head on his shoulder. Apparently, personal space wasn't in her dictionary. But, she's warm so it's okay.“I need a warm up before Ozzy decides he’s ready to challenge me.” 

The tired boy sighed heavily, his shoulders rising and falling with the action. “I’m not that good at it,” he said finally. “Don’t be disappointed if I’m not much of a warm up.”

“We can do easy mode.” She chirped, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Sherwin,” the two looked up at the same time when Liane addressed him. Not a moment was spared between his attention being caught and the small hand grabbing his free arm, pulling him away from Miranda. And he was just starting to warm up, he whined to himself as Liane dragged him closer to the locker room door.

“Tell Jon that his dad is waiting for him.” Then he was shoved into the building without the chance to process her order. Suddenly he was surrounded by the sounds of whooping and laughter and cheering, several boys walking around in various stages of dress shoving each other into a locker, the shower, or into someone else. Anxiety and embarrassment immediately grabbed him. Did Liane enjoy forcing him in here?

_ Don’t look at anyone, don’t look at anyone, don’t look at anyone _ , the mantra filled his mind as he’d give only the slightest glances away from the nearest wall in his search for Jonathan. Though, as his luck would have it, and as expected for being recently outed, Sherwin should have expected the shove. Hitting the ugly cream painted cinder brick wall wasn’t his favorite landing, as if it ever will be, but it wasn’t as painful as when a lacrosse member pushes him.

“On the prowl, queerbait?” Sherwin didn’t know him, he didn’t really know anyone on the team other than Jonathan, Sean, and Ozzy, but he did recognize the guy. It was the jerk that called him a freckled fairy the other day during practice. “See anything you like?” At least he was dressed - if you can stained briefs and a dirty undershirt dressed. Sherwin used the wall to steady himself, giving the other teen a deliberate and slow once over.

“That would be too much of an ‘ego’ boost for you.” Distaste came easy, emphasizing the ginger’s words. “Personality does count after all.”

A burst of laughter followed, startling the small gathering that the scene had caused, and halting the impending beating that probably would have happened. Ozzy appeared from around a wall of lockers dressed from the waist down looking as humored as ever. Thank god.

“Honestly,” Ozzy wheezed out the word, stepping towards the group, his body jerking between his fits of laughter. “Where, haha- Where have you been -pfft- all my life, Win. Need, pfft aha, need some ice for that burn, Lucas?” He snickered manically, smacking a hand on the offending teen’s shoulder. Judging by the way ‘Lucas’ nearly buckled under the hit, Ozzy didn’t mean the gesture to be friendly or funny, but the hand wasn’t removed. The other viewing members of the baseball team were quick to scatter, acting like they hadn’t been watching one of their own attempt to tear down the ‘gay kid.’

Suddenly, Ozzy’s arm was around the guy’s neck, tightly locked in place. From the back view, a teacher might think it was a couple of boys simply goofing around, rowdy after winning a big game, from the front it was different, very different. The humor in Ozzy’s eyes died in an instant, as if someone blew out a lit candle, Sherwin almost heard the hard crack of their heads hitting as Ozzy brought the boy closer.

“Something  _ I’d _ like to see,” the latino boy hissed through bared teeth, “is you apologizing to Sherwin for tonight and the other day or we’ll have a lot of bones to pick.  _ Entendido?” _

“So-sorry,” the trapped teen quickly rasped as the grip around his neck tightened. “Sorry, I’m sorry, so, so sorry.” He stared desperately at Sherwin as if begging for help. A petty side of Sherwin wanted to ‘suggest’ a sleepover in his locker, but that wasn’t right or something he would do.

The freckled boy shot Ozzy a frightened look, he took it under quick consideration and eased up on his victim.

“Eh, maybe I’m being too rough,” the catcher relaxed and released the teen, letting him stumble forward a bit. “Sorry.” Ozzy smirked at the fear on Lucas’ face, and smirked still as the older teen stormed off, shoving the younger aside with his shoulder as if that showed he wasn’t scared.

Sherwin watched as Lucas disappeared into the thrall of semi-dressed teenagers before turning to Ozzy again. “That wasn’t necessary.” 

“Of course it was,” the falsely brown-eyed boy waved him off. “Guys like that need to be put in their place. The ones they actually belong in, not the ones they think they belong in.” He settled in at Sherwin’s side, an arm draping around the taller boy’s shoulders with gentler intentions than when it was on Lucas’. “Now, what brings you here? If you needed eye candy, you coulda just asked.” He snickered teasingly. Sherwin only rolled his eyes.

“Liane shoved me in here.” The boy explained. “She told me to tell Jonathan that his dad is waiting.”

Ozzy’s brows shot upward, a less cocky grin eased his features. “Really? He’ll be stoked to hear that, c’mon.” His arm slipped off Sherwin’s shoulders, replaced by the grip around the ginger’s wrist, and tugged him along through the thinning mass of bodies. Thankfully, they were all almost fully dressed and Ozzy cleared a path so Sherwin didn’t accidentally bump into anyone, and even more thankfully, so was Jonathan - if he wasn’t, oh god, the thought was too much.

“Lookie what I found ~” Ozzy crooned, ruffling his hand through Sherwin’s curls. “A cute lil messenger boy.” He wandered off a little ways towards Sean, who was seated on one of the benches tying his shoes, and an open locker. 

Jonathan, who was fastening a belt around his waist, looked up and smiled happily, his normally impeccably styled hair falling over his eyes. “Hey, Sherwin, did you enjoy the game?” He asked. As the captain stood straight, straightening his black undershirt, Sherwin duly noted the nice toning in his arms. The wonders of exercise.

"Y-yea," he stammered, prying his own gaze away from the other teen, well aware of the redness already spreading over his face. Curse his pale complexion. "You guys were, ah, amazing."

Jonathan's smile widened, not seeming to notice anything odd about the ginger boy's behavior. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, since Ozzy was making faces behind him and Sean was trying hard to keep his laughter quiet.

"Thanks, I was getting worried around the fourth inning," the blue-eyed boy confessed as he pulled a blue shirt of a duffel bag at his feet. "I'm glad we pulled through though."

"Pulled through?!" Ozzy exclaimed, his expression twisted between one of his teasing faces and offended. The catcher threw a shoe at the floor dramatically. "We beat them by fifteen fucking points, dammit! Let's make with the celebrating already! I want my break, man!" Sean's head was in his hands shaking uselessly, unsure of how else to react to the scene beside him, his shoulders jumping with restrained laughter. 

"Yes, alright, Ozzy," Jonathan waved a hand in the boy's direction, shaking his head with mock exasperation. If Sherwin ever wondered if Ozzy acted like this on a normal day Sean's and Jonathan's expressions definitely answered. Then Jonathan turned back to Sherwin.

"Did you need something?" He asked, fitting his arms through the sleeves of his clean shirt before pulling it over his head. "Or are you just here to congratulate us?"

Sherwin blinked blankly for a few moments, having been instantaneously mesmerized by the action. Shaking his head and bringing a hand up to comb his bangs over his eyes. Hopefully that will help with the staring problem.

"R-right, ah, um, Liane," he was trying. Emphasis on trying. "Liane sent- sent me -- I was just talking to Miranda th- then Liane just pushed me in here, then some jerked p-pushed me into a wall, for some reason people like pushing me around- " he started rambling, and he couldn't stop. Jonathan,  _ his crush _ , was standing in front of him almost shirtless nearly seconds ago, listened, and he cannot stop talking, flustered and in a flurry. Ozzy and Sean were watching, faces sharing their second-hand embarrassment. Sherwin's face no doubt is getting just redder and redder, heart beating harder and harder.

Suddenly, a hand dropped on his shoulder startled him, silencing him, nearly killing him.

"Take a breath, Sherwin." Jonathan's voice was calm and clear through the panicked mania of Sherwin's mind. He obeyed nonetheless.

"Better?" Sherwin nodded, looking a little more than embarrassed.

"Good," Jonathan took back his hand, feeling like he just turned off an alarm clock. "Now, how about we get to the point." He suggested. "Liane sent you to what?"

A pained look took over Sherwin's features, gripping his left arm with his opposite hand as he slouched a bit.

"She- she said your dad is waiting outside."

Jonathan blinked quietly for a moment, a smile quickly spreading over his face at the news. His dad came to watch him play. It shouldn’t be so surprising, he tries to make it to every game, and usually arrives when the game is half done. But it never failed to be a nice surprise to find out.

“Really? That’s great!” He turned to his open locker, hurriedly swapping things between his duffel bag and the small storage unit. Flashing the other boy a bright smile. “I’ll be out in a minute. Thanks for letting me know Sherwin.”

He missed seeing the look of surprise on Sherwin’s face, then the small smile. “You’re welcome,” he did hear though, “we’ll see you outside then.” Jonathan hummed in response, more focused on making sure he had everything he needed for the sleepover. But when Ozzy spoke up again, Jonathan slowed his rush.

“Man, I’m a little jealous now.”

"About what?" He gave Ozzy a confused look, which Ozzy responded to with some frustration. 

"I'm just saying, you have a serious fanbase, cute girls want to be with you and plenty of guys wanna be you - not sayin' I wanna be you, I'm good on that - but you don't respond to any of that. It's kinda frustrating to watch." Ozzy explained as he gathered his things, pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder with one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his black zip-up hoodie.

"I can't say that I understand." Jonathan said. He wasn't sure what point his friend wasn't trying to make. Sure, Jonathan is admired and adored, there's at least a handful of confession letters stashed in his locker every week. But it's not a big deal. At least not as big as Ozzy was making it, afterall he gets similar attention, Sean and Liane too.

"Uh, how do I explain this so you get it," Ozzy muttered to himself, using a hand to rub his chin.

Jonathan frowned at that, feeling a little patronized. What was there to understand? Sherwin has a crush on him, so does over half of the girls in their class. So what? They agreed to be friends. Besides, there are things higher up on his priority list than dating. What can they do anyway? They're thirteen, for crying out loud, that leaves a pretty strict budget when you're dating on an allowance.  _ Tan inútil. _

"It's just that Sherwin  _ is _ pretty attractive and his patience does go for a while, trust me it does, but it will end eventually." The look on Ozzy's face as he spoke was soft, caring, not something that was usually seen, or seen at all. "But then what?" He asked. "What's next?"

Jonathan raised a brow at him suspiciously. "You're being pretty insistent, Oz. Do you have something to admit?" 

The other teen blinked at him in surprise, then his eyes narrowed, his head shaking. "Hey, hey, don't round this on me. I do care about Win, but I'm not an idiot," He faced Jonathan completely, the hand that held his bag strap tightened. "And I'm not afraid to say the truth."

Sean still sat off to the side, watching the tensions rise between his friends with a worried expression.

The captain turned back to his locker, releasing a frustrated exhale. "Well, if the truth is that  _ you _ are into Sherwin, I won't stop you from asking him out."

A sound came from the catcher, strangled and raspy. Jonathan didn't look to see the face of disbelief on Ozzy's face, so he didn't see the silent exchange between Ozzy and Sean. Ozzy's free hand waving at Jonathan's back, his ever changing facial expressions speaking more than the choice vocabulary he wanted to use ever could. Sean could only watch helplessly as his oldest friend used all of his restraint to not attack their captain.

Looking around desperately for  _ something _ to hit  _ something _ with, Ozzy didn't know quite yet, he just knew that if he didn't hit something soon he was going to hit  _ someone _ . As he reached his snapping point, he slung the strap of his duffel bag off of his shoulder and flung the entire bag down the hall of lockers, colliding into bins of equipment with a crash, the noise emphasizing how he felt. Any lingering baseball members could be heard making their quick exit. Jonathan whipped around, facing Ozzy again, to be picked up off the ground by his shirt and pinned against his own locker.

"I am just going to chalk that up to your emotional constipation." Ozzy snarled viciously, his face only centimeters from Jonathan's. "But if you  _ ever _ say  _ anything _ like that again, and I will personally bury you. Sherwin deserves a hell of a lot more consideration than  _ that _ ." And then he dropped him, glaring coldly down as Jonathan fell completely to the floor.

"I can't say I'm surprised you were hiding something," Ozzy spat, "I just wasn't expecting that it was you're a dick." With that, he walked away, collecting his bag in his exit.

Sean finally stepped up, taking hold of Jonathan's arm and helping him to his feet, flinching at the sound of the locker room door slamming shut. "He got pretty steamed." The blonde stated quietly.

Jonathan patted his chest, feeling the way his heart raced with fear. It was a strange feeling, almost sickening in a way that twisted his stomach into knots. Never once since he met Ozzy, did Jonathan think he'd ever be scared of him. But, the last few seconds where Ozzy's face was so close, the anger in his eyes, and the promise in his words, guarantee backing up his voice. It all rattled terror up and down his spine.

"I…" he was at a loss for words, shuddering each breath. "Is that why you didn't jump in?" He tried laughing like he was joking. It was weak, very weak.

"Ho no," Sean's head shook like that was the dumbest idea. "Ozzy has next to no impulse control when he gets angry, believe me. Just be grateful he didn't punch you."

Jonathan met Sean's gaze worriedly, the taller teen let go of his arm and stepped back.

"Did you ever get hit?" He asked.

"Almost." Sean answered, turning around then walking back over to the bench, and picked up his bag. "I kept trying to stop him from hurting people, even though they hurt me first. Ozzy is protective, that's all." He pulled the strap over his head and fixed it over his chest. "It's how he is."

Jonathan huffed, combing his hair back with his fingers. "That's a dangerous type of protective."

Sean frowned at that. "I think he's right though." He replied, watching Jonathan zip his duffel bag shut. "I don't know Sherwin as well as Ozzy does, but even I think what you said was careless. It wasn’t cool, Jon."

The latino boy looked away from his friend, shame gnawing at him. The way Sean explained it, it made sense of how Ozzy reacted. Jonathan spoke out of frustration. Everyone was making too big a deal out of Sherwin hanging out with them, and if they thought Sherwin should get the attention he wants then it should be someone who can give it to him. Because Jonathan can't. There just are things that are more important.

"Yeah. You are right." He sighed, picking up his bag. "I'll have to apologize to Ozzy, huh?"

"Probably." Sean adjusted the strap over his chest. "Let him cool down first though."

Jonathan nodded in a hasty agreement, walking side by side with the other boy to the door. "Of course." He heard Sean chuckle quietly, it was definitely new, the lingering fear in the pit of Jonathan's stomach. He never knew the kind of anger Ozzy held back.

Ozzy made all kinds of jokes about Jonathan's temper as if  _ he _ was the one hiding fear, but… wow. Who knew Ozzy was the one holding out.

The two boys stepped out of the locker room, most of the team had already joined their parents or gathered up to carpool with someone else's family for the after game party at the arcade, the students that managed the concession stand were locking up the stand and walking off towards the school gate. Their own friends were circled up not too far away talking and laughing with three adults standing not far from them.

Jonathan recognized his dad in his work suit, chatting casually with Ozzy's parents, Oliver and Damien. He split off away from Sean to join the adults, Sean moving on to join their friend group, patting a hand on Ozzy's shoulder.

"And I have to explain again that I cannot keep- Jonathan, my boy," Marcus cut himself off to acknowledge his son, sparing an apologetic glance to the other two men. Oliver nodded, wrapping an arm around his husband, and they turned around to check in on the other teens, making sure everyone had everything they needed.

"Good game, mijo." Jonathan's dad praised, pressing a playful fist to the boy's shoulder. "You really do make sure your team can play."

"Always, Papa." Jonathan grinned, letting the previous worries melt to the back of his mind. "We need to be good if we're going to state."

The man laughed heartily. "Ah, ambitious as always. If anyone can get your team there it must be you.  _ Mi orgullo y alegría. _ " He wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him close. Jonathan's head was pressed against his father's sternum, hearing the steady beat of the man’s heart, and feeling a large, weathered hand ruffling his already messy hair, he grabbed his father's bicep. After a moment the two parted, Marcus looking his son in the eye.

"I know you usually go off with your  _ amigos _ for the night," he began, the expression he wore told that he knew the reasons why, "but, if you'd like to come home, I'm sure we can convince your mother to make a treat for you as well as your brother." 

The idea sounded nice, even if it wasn’t new. But it was better if Jonathan went with the others, staying under the same roof with Micheal always ended in disaster, and it was always Jonathan’s fault somehow. Micheal gets whatever he wants and gets away with everything he does.

“I’d like to, Papa, but,” the teen sighed, a weak smile spreading over his face, “you know that is a bad idea.”

The man sighed as well, nodding tiredly, “I know, I know.” He stroked his hand through his son’s hair again, an affection smile on his own face. “I will see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow.” Jonathan agreed with a firm nod. He stepped out from under his father’s hand, giving a small wave in farewell, and joined his friends. Ozzy was helping Sherwin put on his hoodie, tossing the black hood over the boy’s ginger hair to show off a set of cat ears, Miranda went nuts dancing around Sherwin, squealing delightedly. The other latino boy turned and glared at his captain as if daring him to even think of coming anywhere close. Remembering the way that he was slammed against his locker, Jonathan scurried to stand beside Liane, who gave him a curious look but said nothing.

The ride to the arcade was a blur, it seemed like one minute Ozzy had hoisted Sherwin over his shoulder at the first possible sign of him refusing to join in on the celebration and the next Sherwin was surrounded by loud noises and people, flashing colorful lights, and nearly his entire grade and their families, his anxiety was quickly rising. As promised, Sherwin did a couple warm up rounds with Miranda on Dance Dance Revolution, it wasn’t very different from the gaming set he had at home. Liane stood to the side recording on her phone, he tried to not notice, Ozzy and Sean were with her cheering and dancing along - it was mostly Ozzy doing the dancing. Some of the songs Miranda picked were clearly Vocaloid, ones that Sherwin knew and tried singing along with. Heavy emphasis on ‘tried’. They all ended up laughing.

He prayed that he could convince Liane to delete the video.

Sherwin was ready to collapse by the time Ozzy decided he wanted a turn, Miranda laughed haughty and loud at his challenge. Where did she get her energy, Sherwin wondered.

“Take a breather, Win,” Ozzy held him steady until Sherwin was sure he wasn’t going to stumble into someone, the ginger boy was trying to get his breathing back under control. How was easy mode still so exerting? “Let a pro show you how it’s done.” He turned to the girl in the pink hoodie with the most cocky grin Sherwin had ever seen.

“Winner gets first movie pick?” Ozzy offered his hand to her.

“And the royal treatment?” Miranda asked, leaning forward with a sneaky look.

“I’m still grounded from using the oven.”

“Darn,” she pouted for but a moment, her smile reappearing. “Royal treatment, without the baked goods?”

“Deal.” And they shook on it.

When the two agreed on a song, they both selected hard mode, and good god were they fast. The machine complimented them almost endlessly, the combo bonuses climbed higher and higher. Two very skilled and very competitive teenagers. Soon enough the first song was done, a tie to Sherwin’s astonishment, so they went again with a new song, and it continued like that. Sherwin got even more exhausted watching them.

"Are they even human?" He asked loudly to be heard over all of the noise around them.

"We think their blood is what is used in energy drinks." Sean answered with a smirk, Liane laughed beside him. She cheered for Miranda.

When Ozzy and Miranda finally decided it was time for a break, the girl practically fell into Ozzy's arms. He cackled as he picked her up bridal-style and carried her off of the game pads.

"You coulda just surrendered, y'know."

"I'd rather die." She panted dramatically, hanging on to his shoulders even after he set her back on her feet, her legs visibly shaking. "I just need some water and a piece of pizza," she reached out for Liane, the other girl put away her phone and took Miranda's arm over her shoulders, wrapping her own around Miranda's back. She looked back at Ozzy with narrow eyes and a challenging smile. "Then I will beat you."

"Can't wait." The boy chuckled deeply. Then, he shrugged. "Until then, pizza!" Ozzy grabbed Sherwin and held him close, leading the charge to the tables where a big mixture of adults and kids sat and stuffed themselves with greasy and amazingly good foods.

Since it was a big group, the coach called and reserved almost the entire seating area for the team and their families. Oliver, one of Ozzy's dads, apparently helped set it up and organized pizza orders and drinks. He was even seen distributing extra game tokens for some of the team's younger siblings.

The group quickly located their captain seated alone, surprisingly, with a small mountain of tickets beside him, unsurprisingly, counting out the smaller strips. The noise of people and the games died down a little as they approached him.

"Well, someone's winning streak just got started." Liane commented as they reached the table, Sean quickly pulled out two of the chairs for the girls, and helped Miranda into one.

"I'm beginning to consider getting one of those arcade cards to store my winnings on," he huffed a short laugh, rubbing the ticket he paused on between his thumb and forefinger, "this is getting ridiculous."

Sherwin was going to take one chair that was closest to him, coincidentally beside Jonathan, but was abruptly pulled into the next chair by Ozzy, who took the original seat he was going for. It was strange. The motion felt too quick to be random, his grip around Sherwin’s hand too firm to be friendly. Had he done something? The freckled boy gave him a confused look only to get a wide grin in return, he looked around at the other's to see if any of them noticed or thought it was weird too. No one even looked in their direction.

"Are you trying to get a certain prize?" Sherwin asked, pushing the thought away, leaning forward to look at Jonathan around Ozzy. The human obstacle leaned back in his seat, letting have an easy view. Maybe Sherwin was imagining things.

Jonathan watched Ozzy, seeming wary of the movement, before focusing on Sherwin. "Not really,” he shrugged, “I bought all of the prizes at least once already. They don't update them here often." He looked back at the tickets stacked in a disarray on his right in comparison to the neat stacks in front of him on the tabletop. "I'm not really in it for the prizes though, just the records."

"'Course," Ozzy cackled, leaning back even further, tipping in his chair, bringing his arms behind his head. "Gotta be the best at everything, donchya?" Maybe Sherwin’s ears were still buzzing from the games but the way Ozzy spoke sounded like he was mocking Jonathan.

He watched curiously the way Jonathan eyed Ozzy again almost warily, the way Jonathan's eyes narrowed at the other boy. Ozzy was facing him so Sherwin couldn't see his expression. He wondered if maybe he wasn't imagining things, Ozzy was acting a bit like how he did towards Lucas in the locker room. Did something happen? 

"Forgive me for being an overachiever." The blue-eyed boy answered finally, an easy smile spread over his features. "There are just some things I find more important than simple prizes."

Ozzy dropped forward in his chair, standing abruptly, startling the others seated at the table. "I'm getting some pizza, anyone else?" He hissed out the final word, looking around at them. Liane and Sean had barely stood from their seats before Ozzy walked away. Now, they too were turning their heads between Ozzy and Jonathan. Liane with confusion. Sean with what looked like worry. It had Sherwin concerned that he wasn’t the only one not in the know about some underlying problem.

Maybe he can talk to Ozzy and find out. He wasn’t used to this angier side of his pupil, having only seen it twice now, but perhaps it could be talked through. It wasn’t like Ozzy to be mad at someone for no reason.

“Pizza does sound good.” Sherwin said to no one in particular, standing up, not noticing the way Jonathan tensed a bit. He jogged ahead of Liane and Sean to catch up with their missing member.

He found Ozzy in the farthest corner skimming through what remained of the first pizzas laid out, angrily chewing on a breadstick and grumbling incoherently to himself. It was quiet enough this far away from the gaming consoles that Sherwin could hear his grumbling, ignoring the question of where Ozzy found the breadstick. He poked Ozzy’s shoulder to get his attention, making the other jump and turn with a plastic fork in one hand raised like a weapon. Once the catcher recognized Sherwin, the fork quickly dropped to the table, and his maddened expression switched to apologetic.

“Is everything okay, Ozzy?” He asked gently, forcing back the twitch of fear to the back of his mind. This was Ozzy, he wouldn’t hurt Sherwin, not after how quick he was to get payback for him.

Ozzy’s response was an overly enthusiastic nod, mumbling pleasantly with his mouth still full of food. Sherwin tore away the portion of the breadstick sticking out of the boy’s mouth.

“It’s rude to speak with your mouth full.” He scolded, tapping Ozzy on his nose with the buttery piece of bread. “Now think your lie through before you speak it.”

The boy blinked at Sherwin for a minute, then swallowed his food. “Why wouldn’t everything be okay? Everything is just hunky-dory.” He flashed Sherwin the same wide grin from before. Sherwin wasn't buying it.

“Then why are you so angry all of sudden?”

"What makes you think I'm angry?" Ozzy refused to look him in the eye, looking around at anything and anyone that wasn't the ginger in front of him. "'M just tryin' to have fun like everyone else." He carefully took back his breadstick and promptly stuffed it in his mouth, silencing himself.

"Right," Sherwin replied, aware that his disbelief showed. A little frustrated that Ozzy thinks he can hide an emotion he is rather open about. Maybe Ozzy just didn’t want to talk about it? That’s fine, sure, a little odd, but fine.  _ Maman always said you shouldn’t force open a problem, _ he chided himself.

“So, what brings a cutie such as yourself this far away from the party?” Ozzy asked, licking the butter off of his fingers. Does he think flirting will get him anywhere?

A brow rose on Sherwin’s forehead, but he sighed, deciding to let it go. “I could ask you the same thing. The fresh pizzas are over there.” He pointed back the way that they had come, and as if to emphasize the statement, one of the arcade attendants set down another large pizza at the end of the table. A few teens close by quickly closed in on it with glee.

“Well then,” the boy coughed, then extended his hand past Sherwin towards the other end, a renewed grin on his face. “Shall we?”

Sherwin laughed at him but nodded, taking the lead as they moved to join the gathering. “I hope you realize you are not as smooth as you think.” But he did have persistence going for him.

“Yea, I know,” Ozzy shrugged, slinking an arm over Sherwin’s shoulder, poking the thinner teen’s ribs with his free hand. “Like I said though, it’s just practice…” He trailed off, holding Sherwin back as he stopped in his tracks. When Sherwin turned his head to Ozzy, he was staring off past their peers surrounding them with his jaw slacked and eyes wide.

Sherwin tried to follow the brunet’s eyes but nothing special stuck out to him. Just a bunch of people running around the arcade. But the way Ozzy’s grip tightened on him, keeping him close, he could feel the way that the limb trembled over his shoulders, and felt the shudder in his friend’s breath. He tried looking through the mess of moving bodies again for something out of place, he couldn’t find anything. Bringing his own hand up to rest over the other’s on his shoulder.

“Ozzy?” Sherwin patted his hand gently, feeling the body he was being hugged against seize up. “Are you okay? You’re kind of hurting me.” He watched as Ozzy came to, eyes blinking rapidly as his head dropped, just slightly turning to the sound of Sherwin’s voice, another shuddering breath as his arm reluctantly pulled away.

“Sorry, sorry, I just… ah… fuck." Hands in his hair in motion caught between combing through the strands or grabbing them. "D-do you wanna get a drink?" He asked suddenly, an uncharacteristically nervous smile on his face. "I'm not a big fan of root beer but there's a pop machine near the washrooms, I-I can pay you back for the 3 musketeers bar." His eyes kept darting from Sherwin to something in the crown and back again.

Sherwin's brows furrowed with worry. This wasn't like Ozzy, anxious, bordering scared, looking around as if looking for the best hiding spot or the nearest exit.

"Um, sure."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Ozzy took his hand and pulled him through the crowd, still snapping his head in the direction of whatever made him so jumpy. Sherwin kept bumping into people, and kept apologizing to them as he tried to keep up so his arm wouldn't be pulled from the socket. When they reached a less dense part of the crowd, he heard something and quickly connected it to the tightening grip on his hand.

"Ozland, sweetie!" A feminine voice called above the noise.

Ozzy took a sharp turn back into the masses, dragging Sherwin with him.

"Ow, Ozzy slow down!" Sherwin tried to keep his voice at a decent level. "Wasn't someone calling your name?"

"Nope." And right turn behind a half wall and then in one of the washrooms. Ozzy yanked Sherwin in and slammed the door shut, blocking it with his body before flipping the lock. His chest was heaving, so was Sherwin's but somehow it wasn't the same, rising and falling in quick succession as he kept his back pressed against the door like he was keeping a monster at bay. Ozzy's head was downcast leaving his expression unreadable as Sherwin dared step toward him.

"Ozzy, what's going on?" Sherwin demanded, forcing himself not to sound as startled as he was. That was a lot of change in a short amount of time. He stilled when Ozzy dropped to the floor, curling up with his head on his knees and wrapping his arms around his head, keeping weirdly quiet.

"Ozzy?" He tried again, moving slowly to kneel in front of his friend. The heap that was the other teen heaved a shaky breath, stiffening only when Sherwin reached out and touched one of the boy's hands.

"Talk to me. Please?" Sherwin pleaded softly, shifting around to sit beside Ozzy against the door. Sitting close so that Sherwin's left side was pressed against Ozzy's right. Ozzy leaned more into the contact, his hand that Sherwin touched lifted, taking the pale appendage in it's weak grip. They sat there quietly on the cold tile floor, barely registering the muffled rabble beyond the door at their backs, under the flickering fluorescent lights, Sherwin staring at the far wall trying to figure out what was wrong and how to ease it.

"Sorry," Ozzy finally croaked, lifting his head enough that Sherwin could hear him but not enough so he could see his face, keeping the ginger boy's hand in his. "Sorry," he repeated again softer than the first time, "I… ah, I shouldn't have- I- I just needed to get out of there." He covered part of his face with his free hand, almost pushing his head up the rest of the way. Sherwin could see his one uncovered eye glossy with tears. Ozzy let his free hand drop over his stomach, taking a deep breath as his eyes slid shut.

"Was it the woman that called out to you?" Ozzy nodded, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Do you want to talk about it?" His head shook.

Sherwin rested his head on Ozzy's shoulder, feeling and watching Ozzy's thumb rub circles on the back of his hand, tan skin a stark contrast to pale dotted with freckles. It was unnerving how quiet Ozzy was being. What had him so scared? The woman? Did Ozzy know her? She apparently knew him, and he knew her enough to be afraid. Sherwin didn't get a chance to look at her so he didn't know what she looked like.

"Do... you want a hug?" Sherwin offered slowly, his amber eyes flicking back to the other boy's face. The corner of Ozzy's mouth twitched upward.

"Yea, actually." He twisted around, sinking further down, slinking his arms around Sherwin's waist. Sherwin wrapped his arms around Ozzy's shoulders, letting him rest his head on his chest. Combing his fingers through Ozzy's hair, Sherwin got an idea.

_ "Idir ann is idir as, _

_ Idir thuaid is idir theas, _

_ Idir thiar is idir thoir, _

_ Idir am is idir áit," _

He smiled when Ozzy gave a pleasant hum.

_ "As an sliogán, _

_ Ahmrán na farriage, _

_ Suaimhneach ná ciúin,  _

_ Ag cuardú go damanta, _

_ Mo ghrá," _

"I never heard of this one." Ozzy murmured lightly.

"It's a lullaby my grandmother taught me when I first moved here," Sherwin explained, "before she passed. Some of my older cousins and I sang it for her funeral."

"Sorry for your loss."

"She passed last year." Sherwin giggled. "I didn't really know her."

"Still."

"Are you feeling better?"

"A little."

"Good," they both chuckled softly as if there was a joke.

A knock on the door startled them, having forgotten that there was a reason they were hiding in the washroom of the arcade.

"Ozzy?" A voice asked from the other side of the door. "Are you in there, punk?"

The addressed boy sighed in relief. "It's just my dad." He pulled back from the weird hugging position they were still in and hoisted himself to his feet, dusting off his jeans. Then Ozzy turned around and offered his hand to Sherwin, helping him up. Ozzy flipped the lock on the door and opened it a crack, Sherwin standing a little to the side behind him peering over his shoulder.

Oliver, nearly identical to his son, or maybe it would be the other way around, stood outside of the washroom with a worried look only a parent could wear. He seemed a little surprised to see Sherwin there as well. "Are you guys okay?"

"Yea, dad, we're good." Ozzy nodded, glancing back at Sherwin, who also nodded.

The man breathed a sigh, sounding relieved. "That's good," he looked to Sherwin with a friendly smile. "Would you mind if I talked to Ozzy privately for a bit?"

Sherwin looked to Ozzy, a little uncertain even though he knew that Ozzy was feeling better, and that it was  _ his own dad _ that wanted to talk to him. Ozzy gave him a nod and opened the door more, his dad stepping back to let him through. The ginger boy exited quietly, rounding the half wall and further into the arcade before coming to a stop near an abandoned table, littered with plates and cups and half drunk soda bottles. He sat down in one of the plastic chairs, hugging his arms around himself, rubbing the fabric of the black hoodie that Ozzy lent to him, smirking a little at the reminder of how excited Miranda got when Ozzy pulled the hood over Sherwin's head and showed off the ears that resembled the ones on her own sweatshirt.

He wasn't really sure what to do now. He didn't know where the others were at the moment, sure he could send someone a text but… It just seems… off. Sherwin felt off. After that episode with Ozzy, he didn't really know how to wrap his head around that it was real, it actually happened, and he didn't know what to do with that fact. He couldn't help but focus on who the woman was, what did she look like, and why did Ozzy need to get away from her?

Sherwin yelped when a hand dropped on his shoulder. Whipping around to see an equally startled Jonathan. 

"Hi." The other teen greeted with an awkward wave.

Sherwin patted his chest, willing his heart to stop racing. "Hi, Jonathan." He could already feel his face warming up.

"You can call me Jon," Jonathan chuckled a little. "Everyone else does."

Sherwin looked down at the carpet tile for a minute, then back to Jonathan with a humored smile. "Not  _ Johnny?" _

The expression on the popular boy's face was priceless, Sherwin almost burst into laughter at it. "No, no please god, no," he pressed his hands together as if in prayer. "I've told Penelope, asked even, for her to stop calling me that, but clearly… " He sighed in defeat, dropping into an empty chair beside the giggling boy. "I despise that name."

"Why is that?" Sherwin asked curiously, stacking some of the styrofoam plates on top of each other so he could lay an arm on the tabletop, resting his chin in one hand.

"Personal reasons." Jon answered. He stacked the cups that were empty. Sherwin nodded, accepting the response.

"What happened with Ozzy?" He asked after a moment. "You followed him to get pizza and kind of didn't come back."

Sherwin chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. It really wasn't his business to share, but Jon and Ozzy were friends too, right? They didn't seem to be getting along though, "Ozzy said he wanted a drink, just not rootbeer. We went to the pop machine but we got a little sidetracked." He explained, shrugging at the last part.

"Oh?" Jon perked with interest. "With what?"

"Personal reasons." Sherwin stood up and headed off towards the games again, leaving his crush at the dirty table.

Jon stared after him for a moment before getting up and following. Idle conversation wasn't part of the reason he decided to talk to Sherwin. Sherwin kind of deserves an apology too, even though he wasn't present for the conversation. Like Sean had said, he was careless with what he said.

"Ha ha," he snarked once he caught up with the ginger, "use my own words against me, very funny."

"I thought it was." Sherwin giggled, a strangely confident grin on his lips.

Jon smiled at him, then coughed into his fist, clearing his throat. "Can I be honest?" He asked, gesturing for them to stop beside one of the unattended games. Sherwin's grin dropped quickly, his expression turning to worry like it was before Jon approached him.

"It's nothing bad, I promise." He assured quickly. The words didn't seem to have much effect but Sherwin followed him anyway.

"I just want to apologize," Jon began once they were out of the way and out of earshot of their peers. Sherwin gave him a confused look that he had to bite tongue so as to not chuckle. "I know I haven't exactly been the most social towards you, especially considering that I asked you to join us. I am sorry."

Sherwin's hands waved in the air as if to wave away the apology. "You don't have anything to apologize for, Jon, really."

"Yes, I do," he insisted, a firm nod. "With what it seems like our entire grade is making a big deal out of it, I do."

The freckled boy's hand dropped slowly, eyes drifting to the floor with thought. "It… has been a little weird since Tuesday," he admitted reluctantly, a weaker smile appearing on his face, "hasn't it?"

"Yea." Jon agreed with a quiet laugh. "The questions and rumors."

"The attention," Sherwin added, rubbing at his arm, "and the insults."

Jon internally flinched at that note, kicking himself for forgetting. He had overheard a bit of the incident with Lucas in the locker room, mostly because Ozzy brought attention to it with how loud he was laughing. As much of a big deal Liane made about social status, Jon never quite understood it. All he did get out of it was that people only like you for specific aspects of how you present and maintain yourself in public, something he did find painfully tedious. 

"Are you still being bullied?"

Sherwin tensed up, at least from the shoulders down. Judging by his expression, Sherwin looked like Jon had asked a dumb question.

Kicking himself again. "Sorry, stupid question."

"It's fine…" Sherwin looked away, watching some younger kids get dragged by by their parents. "It's been happening for two years, it won't change so easily or quickly, I'm used to it." He shrugged as if he didn't care.

Jon didn't know what to say to that, something new lately, losing his skill of words that was unusual for his age. Maybe it was his lack of understanding in the social hierarchy, but he didn't understand why his classmates felt the need to bully anyone they decided was lesser than them. Needless cruelty is what it was.

"Do you like Mario Kart?" He asked, regaining the teen's attention. Sherwin shrugged again, giving a slight nod. "Would you like to help me warm up before Ozzy remembers he demanded to challenge me?"

Sherwin's smile returned more happily, he nodded. "Sure, Jon," he giggled, "does Ozzy like to challenge everyone?"

Jon laughed, taking the lead to the game. "You have no idea. I don't know where he gets the energy to keep up with them all."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right dolls and babes, because this one chapter took forever to write, I'm going on hiatus to plan and write out the next two or three chapters. If you want to find out details or have questions DM at my tumblr hoodie-2. Until then. Enjoy!


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